Complications of Birth
by Saavik13
Summary: Sequel to Contemplations of Birth. Now in seventh year, our intrepid cast faces the ultimate test of their loyalty, strength, and sanity. Can Hermione over come her lycanthropy and can Harry learn to love? Slash and Het. SS/HG, DM/RL, HP,LM.
1. Chapter One: DC al fine

Complications of Birth

Complications of Birth - REVISED

Author: Saavik

Disclaimer: I am not making money off of this. I'd like to, but men in black suits would come and take me away.

Summary: Sequel to Contemplations of Birth and the WIP Convergence of Birth. Now in seventh year, our intrepid cast faces the ultimate test of their loyalty, strength, and sanity. (Story was written prior to Book 6.)

Pairings: HG/SS, HP/LM, DM/RL, GW/CC, and others

Warnings: Spoilers for Book Five. Mention of mpreg in later chapters, (Not who you think and barely there. Can be overlooked easily if that squeaks you.) Always runs the risk of SM or bondage. Lastly, there will be HEAVY torture scenes towards the end. You have been warned. Oh, and in case you didn't read the pairing listed, this has slash, people. If I go above R, and I plan to, I will post the full version on my home web site and any slash site I can get this posted on. Until then, enjoy.

_**A/N: This series was started before Book Five. The companion piece to this, Convergence, explains most of the cannon inconsistencies for 5 but no attempt was made to update it for later books. In addition, you really need to have read Contemplations to truly understand this. Also, I'm not sure if Jabbernall feathers are canon or not. I read about them in another fic and I liked the idea. Basically, the feather makes a person jabber on and on. Sort of like truth serum but more subtle**_

Chapter One: D.C. al fine

May 26th, the dreaded start of exams. Oblivious to the academic tensions of the students, Lucius Malfoy gazed across Albus' desk at the old man. A dark, contemplative look was firmly etched on the man's face. His elegant robes were perfectly draped across both his frame and the chair. Lucius was back to his normal, confident, if somewhat manic self. Not a single hair was misplaced and his callous aura of power was back full force.

"Dumbledore, you have officially lost your last shred of sanity." Lucius set his half-full teacup down with a clatter and decided to get to the point. He'd already been in the cluttered office for over a half-hour. He could only handle so much small talk with senile old men.

"Lucius, my boy, the plan is excellent."

"The plan was concocted by a sixteen-year-old Mudblood while high on the after shock of her first werewolf transformation and less than twelve hours after escaping death at the hands of Lord Voldemort. I hardly think my life is so invaluable as to risk it on such an endeavor." Malfoy snarled and fingered his cane, slowly pulling his wand partially out of its sheathing then gradually back in.

"Now, Lucius, I thought you would be happy," Albus twinkled. Lucius could not understand how the older wizard managed to make twinkling encompass his entire body instead of just his eyes; it was a mystery that had plagued both he and Severus for decades. "If all goes well this should make Riddle think you and Draco are firmly on His side."

Lucius gave a cold laugh. "The man thinks that I've either lost my mind completely or am plotting something. Most likely He is counting on both. The Potter boy would never come willingly to Malfoy Manor and the halfblood knows it. I don't think you fully grasp the situation, old man."

"Then do explain it to me, Malfoy." Dumbledore leaned back and kept one piercing eye focused completely on the wizard across from him. Normally this position sent the other occupant of the room running. Lucius, however, simply raised the strength of his own glare and mirrored Dumbledore's previous movement, leaning back into his own chair.

"The Dark Lord knows that I am behaving differently since the resurrection. He was incensed that I killed everyone He had placed in my dungeons and then sealed them off. He is aware that Severus and I have a rather close relationship – strictly platonic, mind you. It is no secret among the Death Eaters that my participation has been rather lax at the Revels recently."

Lucius paused, as if to consider each word more carefully before he spoke. He was unsure how much of his current situation to reveal to the meddling old miscreant. "I fear that my killing that Muggle child at the last one spoiled a lot of their fun. In short, Headmaster, the Dark Lord has more than enough reason to suspect me of defecting - or at the very least becoming disinterested in His cause."

"Perhaps you should seem more interested then," Dumbledore suggested, his voice light despite the gravity of his words.

"What you suggest would mean murder." Lucius kept his voice even but narrowed his eyes.

Dumbledore remained silent.

"By Merlin, you are a manipulative bastard."

Dumbledore still did not respond, waiting for the wizard to inevitably fill the silence. It was a trick he had picked up over the years. He knew from experience that people tended to prefer to purge their conscience rather than sit in an uneasy silence. His wait proved short and worthwhile.

"I thought by throwing myself in with you, I was done with mindless executions." Lucius threw the other wizard a calculated glare.

Albus sighed, "I will not ask you to do anything you feel is not right, Lucius. But sometimes the ends do justify the means."

"I have spent over two decades trying my damnedest to be a monster, Dumbledore. I failed at it. In fact, I have driven myself to near insanity in the pursuit of something that no one should ever attain." There was silence for a moment as the blond struggled to regain his composure. "No, old man, these means can never justify the end you want."

Albus beamed. "That is what I wished to hear." The wizard was giving the impression of barely contained bouncing at Lucius' response. His twinkle was almost lethal in its intensity and he was practically clapping from the joy of it all.

Lucius snarled as he stood up. "That was a test? You dare to test me?" He hissed, barely above a whisper. "Why you…" His breathing quickened as he tried to contain his indignation. His wand was almost fully unsheathed.

"Calm yourself, Lucius. Try to understand; for you this conversion to the light seems like a long-delayed natural impulse. For the rest of us, it is hard to understand. You have the reputation of being the right hand man to Voldemort. Your knowledge and use of the Dark Arts is virtually unparalleled. Now you say you never wanted to kill, that it was all an act. I may be a senile old man, but I will not be taken for a stupid one."

The wand slammed back into the cane. "It was never an act." Lucius sat down heavily and gave a pleading look to the Headmaster. "I thought if I kept it up long enough I would stop feeling so…. I thought it would stop. I am not an innocent man; I never have been and never can be. I entered His service knowing what it would entail, for the most part at least. I am what I am, Dumbledore: a fool. A bloody, evil, and stupid fool." He looked toward the still napping phoenix before continuing. "Things that made so much sense to me when I was young seem so repugnant now. I do not have the constitution for mayhem and murder that I did as a young man." Lucius only turned back to the Headmaster after the last word had passed his lips. His eyes were struggling between hardness and the rather rare pleading look they had held earlier.

"Forgiveness is possible, for young men like you." Albus sat forward and tried to look forgiving. It didn't work. Especially considering the elderly man had made no move to hide his sneakascope or foe-glass. He did, however, push the box of jabbernall feathers that he had slipped into Lucius' drink further out of sight.

The anger returned as quickly as it had abated. "I do not seek forgiveness. What I seek is far more quantifiable."

"Ever the Slytherin, Lucius," Albus sighed.

"No, Albus, this is more the providence of a Hufflepuff: loyalty - to my son. I don't want Draco to ever sit in this chair and say these things. I don't want my only child to wake up at night to the echo of the screams he has caused in his ears. I don't want his wife to lose her mind from being repeatedly raped by her husband's so-called comrades." Lucius took a deep breath before continuing in a somewhat less harsh tone. "Draco will never stand in a pool of his victim's blood and try to keep from losing his dinner so that his _Master_ will reward him by not sending the Cruciatus his way. Draco is why I am here. The sins of the father will not become the sins of the son. Forgiveness has never been my goal, nor the reason for my presence here."

"And that is why you will receive it," Albus replied gently. "Just as Severus has."

"Not if I follow your plan, old man. I'll be dead long before whatever deity it is you believe in will see fit to grant such a thing to the spawn of Satan." Scorn filled Malfoy's tone, as self-loathing cloaked his features.

"I hardly think you're the spawn of Satan, Lucius. A fallen angel perhaps, but not one that far up. The plan will work."

Lucius snorted at the old Gryffindor's unwavering optimism. "The plan will fail."

"Negative thoughts will not help matters." Albus popped a lemon drop into his mouth and smiled contentedly.

"Negative thoughts have kept me alive for years," Lucius said and eyed the candy bowl apprehensively.

"And kept you chained in service to a mostly dead spectre." Albus picked up the bowl of sweets and offered one to Lucius.

Malfoy sneered at the candy and pushed it away. "Point." He couldn't help but mentally add a comment or two about the prospect of being chained in service to a mostly-batty headmaster. Out of the cauldron and into the fire, indeed.

Setting the candy down, the headmaster replied, "Now please, Lucius, this will work."

"What exactly am I going to say?" Lucius sighed, resigned to defeat. "I already told the Dark Lord that Draco informed you that I had him under Imperius. After Draco telling you that, Potter would never be allowed near Malfoy Manor, no matter your trust in Draco and his…" Lucius stopped, sneering as he continued, "…_conversion_."

Dumbledore looked speculative for a moment. "Tell Him you convinced me that it was Voldemort that ordered the spell cast and you had no choice. Furthermore, you told me you purposefully kept the spell light so Draco could escape. Make it sound as if you have me fooled into thinking that you never wanted to rejoin the Death Eaters after His return, that you wanted to stay out of the heavy Dark Arts and keep your position in the Ministry safe. Add in your arrest and subsequent trial, at great expense to your personal fortune –bribes are not inexpensive- and it is no wonder you might be less than enthusiastic about a return to the Death Eaters. Seeing your son going through his Marking was enough to make you turn to me. Especially when you found out he had switched sides as well. Malfoy family loyalty and so forth."

"He will never believe you are that gullible." Malfoy eyed the old man wearily. "I was caught red-handed in the Ministry wearing Death Eater robes. Fudge and his friends may be spineless fools, but even they couldn't ignore that. I barely escaped Azkaban and the Dementor's Kiss." He ignored the fact that the Dementors were no longer on the island. "It's only because I called in every debt I had and made more threats than it would be possible to make good on in three lifetimes that I'm out in sunlight even now. You would have to be the biggest idiot on the planet to trust me after that."

"This is close to the truth, Lucius. And the truth is always the best lie." Albus smiled benignly and sucked on his lemon drop.

Lucius ignored him. "It will NEVER work! Who in their right mind would try to use the same plan twice? You already tried this Dark Arts training, might-go-dark-Potter-with-the-spy scheme once. Why on god's green earth would you do it again?"

"That is exactly why it will be a success. Besides, I trust you to make it work. Good day, Lucius." Albus waved his hand and suddenly the other wizard found himself standing, with cane in hand, on the outside of the large oak door to the Headmaster's office.

Lucius stared at the offending piece of wood. "Make it work. I was safer trying to duck His curses than this old fool's trust."

"I have found that is often the case." A deep voice, intoned with amusement, came from behind the blond.

Lucius jumped slightly. "Severus, how long have you been standing there?" He turned sharply to stare at his one time classmate. He hated it when Severus did that. The potion master was the only one still able to startle him. The man didn't walk, he _glided_.

"Long enough to hear your conversation." Snape smirked and stepped fully onto the landing.

Lucius sighed, "What am I going to do?"

"What Albus said. Voldemort will believe you. After all, He believed the story you fed Him about Draco already. And Albus is known for being soft hearted and freely giving away second chances."

"This is insane." Lucius let his head fall dejectedly to the wall.

"This is normal around here."

"Good Merlin." Malfoy resisted the urge to start banging his head against the wall.

"Exactly." Snape finally took pity on his friend; after all, he had spent twenty years spying himself. "Look, Dumbledore is known to be crazy. Play that up. Mention the fact that he even let Hermione's adoptive MUGGLE grandparents into the school; just don't let on your role in that. Voldemort is always looking for a reason to think Albus has finally lost his marbles."

"And this strategy kept you alive for so long?"

"Yes."

"…." Lucius remained silent and instead devoted his full attention to looking as skeptical as humanly possible.

"Trust me, it will work," Severus promised.

"It had better." Lucius' voice went from harsh to whiny. "What am I supposed to do with a werewolf? Why does that THING have to come along?"

Severus shivered. "Albus isn't quite sure he trusts you yet. Lupin is there in case something goes wrong."

Lucius suddenly realized what a sensitive subject he had struck. "Severus, I'm sorry. I forgot what Draco told me about Hermione. How are you coping with this?" The two started down the steps towards the gargoyle.

"It will take some time." Severus made a great effort to control his voice. "Hermione is not talking."

"To you? What did you do to upset her?"

"No, she is not talking to anyone, at all. She has not spoken a word since we left the Infirmary. I am worried." Severus paused at the bottom of the staircase. "I really must talk to Albus about this, Lucius. Forgive me for not walking you to the gates."

Lucius smiled faintly. "I can make it on my own. Your lapse in manners will meet no punishment this time. Go take care of that girl. She is special."

Snape gave his friend a dark look. "Special and mine."

"Being territorial?"

"Always."

Lucius laughed and gave Severus a quick pat on the shoulder. "Good. I don't know why, but I like her and I don't want to see her hurt anymore than she already has been."

"She has that effect on people. It is rather annoying." Severus narrowed his eyes. "And you will kindly remember she is off limits."

Lucius snorted. "Yes, well unlike my son, I do not think I will be giving you anything to worry too much about in the near future. I believe keeping myself alive will take up most of my time. I shan't be having enough leisure time to properly woe her." He smirked at Severus' skeptical sideways look. "Goodbye, Severus, and good luck with Dumbledore. He is in a mood today." Lucius brandished his cane and headed for the exit.

Snape watched him leave with a small smile. At least Lucius had managed to cheer him up slightly. A bit of territorial squabbling always made him feel less depressed. At that thought Severus' smile wavered and disappeared. He still had to deal with the Hermione situation. Severus eyed the stairs before heading back up toward Dumbledore's office. It was now or never. He might as well get it over with and see if the old man would have worthwhile advice or more of his usual dribble.

/ / / /

"Do come in, my boy." The cheery voice of the headmaster did nothing for Snape's apprehension. "What can I do for you? I trust you helped ease Lucius' fears."

Snape scowled. "Fears I should by all rights still be shouldering."

Albus dropped the jovial act. The seat across from the desk ran forward to catch the potion professor as he collapsed boneless into the cushions. "Severus, you are too hard on yourself. We all knew your spying was not to last. I was reluctant to ask you to return to it. We were all very blessed to have you come back to us whole."

"Blessed? You confuse me with one of those fools who actually believe in that religious nonsense, Dumbledore. You were lucky that the incident did not end up reflecting badly on the school. As for myself, skill aided me and not some fictional, over-exaggerated deity."

Dumbledore let the comment slide and instead schooled his face back into its customary look of senile joy. "Now my boy, what can I do for you?"

Severus again scowled. "The child refuses to speak. The Potter boy is sulking. Draco is withdrawing. Weasley is a nuisance, as usual. And most of all I fear they will all fail exams. They have not had the proper study environment these last few days."

"This is a problem how, Severus? I thought you always wanted them to fail? Ronald is no longer taking potions since the OWLS and you did, however reluctantly, take Harry on to NEWT level."

"Minerva did not give me a choice." Severus smirked, "and it did annoy Umbridge."

Albus laughed. "Yes, I can see how that would be an added bonus. And you really must admit the boy is not as horrible as you had to make him appear for your cover's sake."

"True. It will be interesting to see how he will improve now that I no longer must give the impression of loathing him."

"Why, Severus, I always assumed it was genuine." Albus sipped his tea.

Severus shook his head. "It once was. But Potter is not why I am here. Dismal as his prospects are, I am sure you will tweak his and the other's final exams enough to compensate for their distractions, as usual." Severus growled out the last part under his breath. "It is Hermione I'm concerned for. Lupin and I are worried about her transformations. In less than six months she has been married, orphaned, held prisoner, assaulted, committed murder, sterilized, and turned into a werewolf."

Albus took a moment to consider the list. It really was quite long… "You don't think she'd do herself harm?" The headmaster sat up straighter in alarm.

Severus quickly put that thought to rest. "No, not intentionally, but she refuses to speak, Albus, even to her grandparents. Potter is constantly at her side but – the Weasley is too uncomfortable in our rooms to even visit. I've purposefully denied Lovegood access. Hermione would wandlessly hex her out the door in her present state."

"In time she will adjust. The last true bit of her that was a child died when she raised her hand, or lips to be more accurate, against Soren. Harry understands better than most what she is feeling. Ronald has yet to undergo the same coming-of-age as they have. Let us hope he does not for some time yet." Albus gazed sorrowfully into his tea, "So many of our children have."

"How do I help her, Albus? What do I do? I remember the first time I killed, under far less noble circumstances. How do I help her?" Severus looked at Fawkes as the bird landed on his chair and trilled for a moment.

"There was precious little anyone could do for you on that fateful night, just as there is little you can do for her just now. Do not push and keep everything as normal as possible for her. Change is not in her best interest."

"I hadn't planned on redecorating in orange and purple anytime soon." Severus wryly commented and Albus snorted.

"Good. Now do send Harry in as you leave. He is trying out his list of sweets with my gargoyle."

Severus rolled his eyes and did as he was told. As usual the headmaster had done little to aid him. Potter shrank back as his professor swept out of the hidden stairwell at a quick pace. "Potter, go on up. You are expected." He sneered, and with a swirl and scowl, Severus left the boy behind to head for his dungeons and his silent wife.

/ / / /

Harry kept his nervous shriek to himself as his professor gruffly brushed passed him. Ever since the Occlumency lessons last year, his fifth, Harry had mixed feelings about the man. Sirius' sudden reappearance, quite alive, last August had deflated much of the boy's anger toward the man. What was left behind was hard to describe. The latest dealings with him had caused a grudging respect to blossom. The worst Dark Arts lessons had gone FAR better than the best Occlumency and Harry had proven an apt pupil this time around. In addition, Hermione was one of his closest friends. Snape might not have saved Sirius last year, but he did save Hermione, twice.

Shaking his head to clear off thoughts of the dark professor, Harry stepped onto the moving staircase. This plan of Hermione's, the last words she'd spoken for close to a week, was not an opportunity Harry was sure he wanted. A whole summer with Draco… and his father. The blondes were causing Harry a few problems.

He knew Malfoy, the younger one, was after Remus. The realization that the werewolf was gay had come as a shock. At the Dursleys such a thing was never discussed. Harry had never contemplated his own preferences… until the dreams. Harry blushed. If Draco was half as limber in real life as he was in Harry's head, Remus was one lucky man.

None of this, however, helped the Boy-Who-Lived. The sudden discovery that his ineptitude with women had more to do with simple lack of real interest than practice had been shocking enough. His fetish for blondes had not helped him any. Harry sighed. There was no way he could survive watching Draco give Remus the eye for a whole summer non-stop. Then there was Lucius. Harry shivered. Like father, like son?

The steps slowed and Harry found himself staring once more at the Headmaster's door. A door he was, quite frankly, tired of seeing. His knock was quickly answered and a candy unceremoniously shoved into his mouth.

"Now, Harry, my boy, what can I do for you?" Albus twinkled.

Harry swallowed the lemon drop out of shear nervousness and tried not to choke. "Sir, I'm …concerned about your plans for me this summer." Harry chose his words carefully. "You know that if I don't return to the Dursleys the protective charms will fail to work ever again."

Albus nodded, "Understand, Harry, I knew they did not want you. But I never thought… as I said this time last year, I knew you were unhappy and less well cared for than I had hoped. The level of mental and physical abuse I never guessed. There is no way I can return you, even if I wished to, now that the public knows." Albus sighed. "This is really the only option you have other than staying here all summer or at Number 12 Grimmauld Place." Harry sat up excitedly. Albus continued with a slightly apologetic expression behind his massive beard, "Neither of which I can truly offer you. Molly will not be manning the house full time now that Sirius is back. You would be all alone there with your godfather. And although I trust you both, together I fear what you might do. Not to mention there is no longer a house-elf to cook or clean. Poor Kreacher's death of old age has left the house rather worse for the wear. Sirius has always been rather inept with such things. As for staying here, I believe Severus and Hermione need some time alone."

Harry was ready to protest when Albus patted him on the shoulder and used the same trick that had worked on Lucius earlier. Harry found himself with a handful of sweets staring at the door with none of his questions answered. Grumbling, Harry descended the stairs two at a time and went to study in the library. After all, he had always understood that apparating inside the school was impossible, let alone a second party apparition. Maybe proving Hermione wrong would get her talking, if for no other reason than to justify her faith in _Hogwarts: a History_. Just as he went past the gargoyle, Remus Lupin walked up and waved to him. Harry half-heartedly returned the gesture and tried not to openly stare. Was Remus really…like him? Or was he like Remus? And what would everyone say if they knew?

/ / / /

Remus watched Harry disappear around the corner. There was something about the boy that was different since Christmas. He had heard the rumors of course; that the boy was paying far more attention to Malfoy then he should be. Remus shook his head. James had never quite gotten use to having a homosexual best friend. He never wanted to be left alone in the bathroom with Remus or to change in the same room. Remus had tried to explain that he felt nothing for James, and never could. They were friends, nothing more, nothing less. But James had found it hard to adjust. They never stopped being friends, but there was a tension to everything. How would Prongs have felt if his son turned out to have the same inclinations? For once Remus was glad his friend was dead. Harry had enough problems.

Sirius. Now that was a different matter. Sirius Black had been more than enthusiastic about encouraging the werewolf. He had tried to set up dates, bought books, offered to take Remus shopping for…god only knows what. Being entirely straight had not seemed to deter the fellow Gryffindor matchmaker one bit. Sirius had gleefully tossed around Remus' sexuality like a flag. Why that was, Remus could only guess. Yet something told the wizard that Sirius would not be pleased that Harry had taken the same path.

For Remus, his sexuality was a blessing. It kept him off the Ministry radar and meant there would be fewer questions to answer for why he never had children. (He could not risk passing on the lycanthropy but hardly wanted to make that public knowledge at the time.) He also had no obligation to keep a House name alive or pass on a legacy. His parents had made sure those burdens fell on another shortly after he was bitten. Harry, however, had quite a bit to pass on. The Potter family would die with him if he did not produce an heir. The line of Godric Gryffindor would end. Harry had to have a child, or better yet, children. James had known this duty and preformed it willingly. What would Harry do if he found a love? Could he leave his lover's bed to find a witch for the sole purpose of caring on the line?

These questions would have to wait. The gargoyle was snarling impatiently. Remus took a deep breath. Whenever he stepped into Dumbledore's office he felt eleven again. He remembered all too well what it felt like to sit in one of those chairs and listen to his parents and the Headmaster discuss his future as if he wasn't there. The questions of security and secrecy if he should attend Hogwarts, what would happen if he got loose during the transformation, what to do if he was ill, who to trust with his secret, how to cover his absences believably… The talks had lasted for hours. In the end his parents had relented to the Headmaster and allowed their son to enter the school's roster. But Remus had seen the look in their eyes. They were half-terrified and half-elated at the same time. The nasty family secret was going away.

Dumbledore was not in his office. Remus sat down in front of the desk and stared at Fawkes. The phoenix was methodically tearing apart some small rodent. The werewolf suppressed a smile as he superimposed Peter's face on the half-dead animal and listened to the weakening squeaks. He did not notice the Headmaster's entrance.

"I fear the poor thing has all its toes, my dear boy." Albus smiled benignly and nodded towards the rat in the bird's clutches. "Besides, I think even you would not wish Peter to become my phoenix's dinner. Would you care for some tea?"

Remus shook his head no.

"Ah," Dumbledore nodded sagely. "I presume you are also here to tell me how foolish this plan is and that you will not participate." Dumbledore pushed his glasses back up his nose and stroked his bird, smoothing down the brilliant red feathers.

Remus looked startled. "No Headmaster. I just wanted to ask you about Sirius. Have you told him what is going on? When Harry doesn't show up at headquarters, and neither do I, he's going to ask questions. When he finds out the truth he's likely to do something rather stupid."

Albus chuckled, "That, my dear boy, is very like Sirius. I imagine that if I told him the truth he'd apparate right to the Manor and drag you both out. But I can not lie to him. Running the headquarters means he is privy to all the Order's secrets. Next to myself, he is the best-informed person in all of England. He will have to be told."

"He will not be happy." Remus reached for the teapot. On second thought, he could use it. "What are we going to do about him? He's been frantic for quality time with Harry, and vice versa, since he came back." Remus paused and closed his eyes momentarily. "When I thought we'd lost him, and Harry wanted to go after him… God Albus, I almost jumped through that gate myself. If I hadn't had to stop Harry I would have followed him. But he came back, as only Sirius could."

Dumbledore nodded. In the beginning of August Sirius Black had scared Percy Weasley almost to death by simply falling out of the arch. The young wizard had supposedly been cataloging something for the ministry when the Marauder had tumbled from the doorway. While months had gone by for the rest of the world, Sirius had only felt seconds pass. He came out, wand ready to fight Bellatrix, only to find a fainting Percy. When the Aurors showed up and failed to arrest him, he was justifiably confused. Dumbledore arrived moments later and explained what had happened. Sirius' immediate desire was to find Harry and hug him, assure the boy it was not his fault and that everything was fine. Albus had escorted Sirius out of a particularly awed Ministry building and back to Grimmauld Place. Harry had been ecstatic, if slightly confused. Remus had been there too. He had cried as hard as the Boy-Who-Lived. Remus had not let Sirius out of his sight for a fortnight.

Following his triumphant return, Sirius had only had a few short weeks with his godson before the start of term. Both had been looking forward to spending the next summer together. When the article came in late August Harry had to physically keep Sirius from attacking the Dursleys. Then school had started again. Harry had returned 'home', so to speak, for Christmas with Sirius. That was the last time the two had met in person and it was killing Sirius not to see Harry. Both Remus and the Headmaster knew the Animagus would not take Harry's summer plans well.

"Do not worry, Remus. I will talk to Sirius in person tonight. There is little to worry about." Dumbledore sighed. "I will convince him of the merits of this plan. Perhaps if I promise him a visit or two throughout the school year it will appease him."

Remus looked skeptical but held his tongue. Sirius could not be stupid enough to go against a direct order from Albus Dumbledore himself. Could he?

"Now, Remus, I think you need to talk to your daughter.…"

/ / / /

Hermione was sitting in the parlor of her and Severus' rooms when Remus arrived. She was surrounded by parchment and a glazed, faraway look was etched on her face. Remus peeked over her shoulder and recognized the runic symbols used in advanced Arithmancy. But that was as much as he could discern. The patterns looked nothing like he remembered, and Arithmancy had been one of his best subjects. The normal, standard equations were missing. What had replaced them looked like unorganized, random scratches. What was the girl up to?

Albus had told him to come and try and get her to talk. What could he do? She had not even looked up since he had entered. He might teach children, but he knew nothing of parenting. And the girl was pretty much an adult! What was he supposed to do with her? Grounding her was out of the question.

He waved a hand in front of her face, between her eyes and the parchment. No response. He tried yelling at her. Nothing. He tried hitting her with a pillow. Still nothing. Eventually he sat down next to her and waited. When over an hour had passed and she still had not moved, Remus left.

He wandered the halls for another hour and then headed for his old dormitory. If he failed, perhaps the boys would not.

/ / / /

"You want us to what?" Ron asked, eyes large.

"I want you two to provoke Hermione into an argument." Remus stated for the twelfth time.

Harry slammed a rather large book on apparating shut and outright laughed. "I thought of that. But unfortunately I can't find any ammunition for an argument. And furthermore, I came to my senses. Fighting with Hermione is about as intelligent as insulting Dumbledore in front of a drunken Hagrid armed with a crossbow. Trust us, that is not a good idea."

Remus glared. "Harry, I just saw her. She was just scribbling nonsense on paper and nothing I did would snap her out of it."

"Hermione scribbling? Not likely. Whatever she was doing makes sense, Professor. Just not to those of us with normal sized brains." Ron moved his chess piece and took Ginny's knight. Colin ducked his girlfriend's swing. He had suggested she move it there.

"You two are impossible. She is your best friend!"

Harry looked up and quietly stated so that only Remus could hear, "I know this doesn't make sense to you, Moony, but Hermione gets like this every once in a while. Not this bad before, but when she's on a roll with an idea, she's lost to the rest of us. I think this time she's forcing herself to disconnect in order to escape, but in time she'll snap back." Somewhat louder he continued, "If you want us to, Ron and I will go see her. I've been everyday but had no more luck than you."

Ron looked like he was about to protest. Remus shot him a death glare. "Alright, alright. But don't expect me to deal with the greasy git, okay?" Ron took his sister's king and stood up. "Let's get this over with."

/ / / /

Severus opened the door and let the two Gryffindors inside. Hermione was lying down for a bit so he grudgingly offered the boys coffee. He needed the added caffeine.

Ron broke the silence first. "When is she going to go back to the old Hermione? She's never pulled this no talking thing for so long before!" Harry nodded but kept silent. "I want her back to normal. I'd even put up with her badgering me to study all the time."

Snape scowled. "That, Mr. Weasley, is an impossibility. Hermione will never be the same." Harry nodded again and continued sipping the bitter drink.

"What do you mean?" Ron asked, confused and a little red in the face. He hadn't intended to blurt that out; frustration had made his tongue act freely, as usual.

"I mean, Mr. Weasley, that purposefully causing the death of another human being changes an individual. Your friend is no longer the same girl you knew." Severus' voice grew huskier. "The innocence is gone."

Ron looked confused and turned to Harry for a translation. The Boy-Who-Lived wasn't paying any attention to his friend; instead he was gaping at the door to the bedroom. Hermione stood there with an ink smudge running down her nose and across her cheek. Her hair was all over the place and her robes rumpled. She'd heard them talking. Harry cringed, waiting for the verbal rebuke that never came. With eyes that lacked any spark whatsoever, Hermione turned back into the bedroom and shut the door.

"You see, Weasley; she is not as she was." Severus sipped his coffee and picked up a pile of first year exams from that morning. "Now get out. You have a Potion's final tomorrow, Potter. And Weasley, I'm sure you have something to cram for. Be gone." The two took the hint and left. Ron paused and looked back as he shut the door. He just barely caught Snape laying his head on his arms and the scarcely detectable shaking of the man's shoulders. For years Ron would wonder: was it laughter or tears?

/ / / /

Draco paced his room. Tomorrow was the day. Tomorrow they all left for the Manor; finals were over at last. Was the plan going to work? Father had his doubts. Draco snorted. Could he even trust his father? The man had worked for Voldemort, could still be doing so. He had not wanted Draco Marked, but…. Draco plopped down on his bed and stared at the canopy. Things were getting far too complicated.

He hated his life. His mother was a walking lunatic. His father was…not much better. His godfather Severus was an enigma, and a damn annoying one at that. The Granger, er, Penwrath creature was a perfect match for the Potions master. She confused the Malfoy heir just as much. Then there was Potter. The boy had been staring at his arse to the exclusion of all else for WEEKS! Draco couldn't take much more of it. He was about to screw the bloody fool just to get rid of him. Draco grimaced; knowing his luck the Gryffindor would just develop a bigger crush.

Then there was Lupin. The only one to ever really listen, completely listen, to him. The wolf inside the quiet man was a puzzle that did not annoy Draco like puzzles normally did, but instead pulled at him. Lupin listened, cared. But the wolf was hungry. Draco could see it in the amber colored eyes as the full moon approached. The wolf wanted him. But Remus was oh so careful, oh so poised. The inner demon never surfaced anywhere but the eyes. Their soft glow would start to burn and Draco could feel their fire. The boy shivered. He wanted to taste that fire, to drown in it. Lupin was the only one to ever even try to resist his attentions, other than Granger.

He rolled over. Maybe it was genetic. The Granger chit seemed to attract his father and him equally. Not as much as the adult male version, but enough. Maybe the Malfoy's were susceptible to werewolf hormones or something. The small amount of Veela blood passed down from several generations back could account for it. One magical creature calling to another. But both werewolves seemed immune to any such effect, both spurning the would-be attentions of the Malfoys, young and old. Regardless of such theories, Draco wanted Remus Lupin more than he wanted just about anything. And being unaccustomed to non-indulgence, he was determined to get his heart's desire.

Werewolves were pack creatures. Draco had to make sure he got himself included in Remus' pack. To do that, he had to get the rest of the group to accept him. Black was out of bounds, impossible to reach for now, and so Draco would work on him later. Potter…Potter would unfortunately have to be humored if not indulged. Keep the Gryffindork happy and form a friendship. Make Remus think everything was all cozy with the orphan. Then there was the girl, the newly discovered daughter and the heart of the pack.

Draco knew what he had to do. The awkward understanding he and Granger had developed would have to be expanded. The werewolf in Lupin would not allow him to accept a mate that his newfound offspring could not get along with. Draco stood up. The Mudblood, er…fake Mudblood, was not talking. Perfect. If she wasn't talking she couldn't aggravate him into doing something stupid. In his current mood, extreme frustration and all-consuming terror of impending doom, he would be only too easy to provoke. There was little time before they left for the summer. He had to try and get her talking. If he could do what the others had failed at, maybe Remus would notice him.

Draco set off for the Snape family quarters intent on 'developing' his friendship. He smirked. Being Slytherin was so much fun.

He stalked towards the door and confidently knocked. Instead of being greeted by his professor's sour expression as he expected, the door swung open on its own as the wards recognized him. Severus' desk was covered in parchments and a fresh cup of that nocuous Muggle coffee was sitting there. But no Snape. The door off to the side leading to the bathroom was firmly shut. Draco rolled his eyes. What a time for a restroom break. He needed to talk! He needed insight into Granger's head, a helping hand in getting the girl on his side. His little dalliances in helping her along with Potter had not proved to endear him any. Some ground had been gained after…after his Marking. Draco shivered; it was an event best forgotten. Then they had made some sort of alliance in the infirmary, but not a glance had passed between them since.

He had hoped his godfather would be amiable to his plan, if for no other reason than to get his wife talking again. Draco needed some idea of what made Granger's mind tick. Severus could hopefully supply such information in an attempt at getting Granger back to some semblance of normal. Assuming, of course, that Severus wanted her talking…

Draco sat down in front of the stove and was startled when the brown lump on the floor moved. Granger was sitting not two feet away from him, scratching away at some weird looking equation. Draco curbed the urge to snatch the paper away. Not only would it be impolite, it would push his means-to-an-end further away. The small voice in the back of the blonde's head that said he really did want to be friends with her and not just to get at her father, laughed at him.

Instead of indulging his first impulse, Draco inclined his head. "Milady, what are you working on? Might I see?" He tried politeness first.

Hermione's quill paused for a moment and then picked right back up. Draco narrowed his eyes. He'd heard the rumors that she'd been like this for days, ever since that first meeting when they returned from the manor. He hadn't paid much attention to the gossip. He had been far more concerned with keeping himself alive at the time. He knew she wasn't talking, but he figured she still responded in some way. He tried again, this time with his usual tone.

"Granger, what are you doing?" She jerked her head up and stared at him. "That got your attention. But why?" He asked, puzzled, but not expecting an answer.

She glared at him and tried to turn away. Draco grabbed her arm and forced her to look at him. "Why are you ignoring all of us, Granger?" Draco watched her eyes for a response. She looked almost scared. "What is going on in that over worked brain of yours? Having second thoughts on this brilliant scheme of yours? If so you'd better tell us, because by this time tomorrow your precious Potter and I will be dead if your plan backfires." He got his response.

Hermione shook free of him and slapped him.

"Oh, that hurt me, better than the Cruciatus." Draco snarled and barely registered Severus' return. "You've hit me before, Granger. I bet you'll hit me again as well." He watched her eyes flash but his pent up anxiety had found an outlet and he was too stressed to try and stop it. "That is, of course, if this half-baked idea doesn't get me killed. Have you any idea what you're playing at? The Dark Lord may have been tricked by you once Mudblood, what makes you think you can do it again?"

Hermione shook and snarled wordlessly. She shoved the parchments at Draco as if he could understand them.

"What are these? Meaningless dribble. Snap out of it! Get over this self-indulgent crap." Draco balled the papers up and waved them in front of her.

Hermione grabbed her papers back and smoothed them on the table.

"You killed the bastard. So what? He deserved it. You beat the Dark Lord, you saved my hide, you played the hero. Now you go all melodramatic. At least Potter never played THIS sympathy card." Draco sneered. "Upset your name can't be in the paper? Want the Order of Merlin? Well the likes of us don't get those, Granger. Welcome to Slytherin. Gryffindors get the glory and we do the work. Join the ranks of the habitually under-appreciated."

Hermione closed her hands into fists.

"That's all this is about isn't it? You did the impossible and got away from old Smoldyworts himself and nobody can know because it would blow my cover. You can't stand not bragging about it to all your little sniveling Gryffindor friends up there in that cozy tower of yours. So if you can't say what you want to say, you'll be quiet. Well congratulations, Granger. You may not get an Order of Merlin but you win the prize for stupid prat of the year."

A wave of wind slammed Draco into the bookcase across the room.

"ORDER OF MERLIN! You think that's what I want, you spineless bloody hypocrite! I don't want a stupid fucking metal. I want my life back! I want my mother, my father, my home. I want my own damn bed and my own family photos. I want my summers in France at the seashore where daddy liked to go and paint the waves. I want to wear my bikini instead of the bathing suit mum liked and watch her try not to say anything. I want to ride the Hogwart's Express to school and not worry about a Death Eater attack. I want to be able to go outside of these walls and not worry about being killed. I want my grandparents to be able to live the last years of their life in their own home and not tucked away in the back of the castle for their own safety."

She took a shuddering breath. "I want Harry to be able to sleep a whole night through without waking up screaming. I want Severus to stop blaming himself for the wrongs of an entire civilization." She crossed the room and physically pulled Draco to his feet. "I want your father, yes, your father, to be the man he could have been without Voldemort and the stupid ideas your grandfather pounded into his head. I want Severus' mother to rot in hell. I want to be able to have children again, even if I choose not to." She slammed the boy down onto the couch. "I want to be able to look at the moon again without feeling this-this, BEAST, inside me! Do you understand now? Do you get the difference, you slimy nothing? Is your puny little pampered mind capable of grasping such a thing? If they handed me that blasted metal I'd shove it down their throats."

Draco loosened his robe collar and glared back at her. "Oh, I get it. You're feeling sorry for yourself and you just decided to take it out on the Slytherin. Well, join the club, Granger. Gryffindors have been doing that to Slytherins for centuries. What can the slimy snake do to make you happy, hum? What can I do to make your terrible life better?"

"I want Voldemort's head on a platter. Give me that, Malfoy, and I just might start to like you."

Draco gave a cold laugh. "If I had His head I wouldn't part with it. I'd mount it on my wall and force it to watch Muggle comedy films for the rest of eternity. I'd put Longbottom's grandmother's hat on it and send pictures out to the Daily Prophet. I'd take darts and hurl them at it everyday for HOURS!" Draco grabbed his left sleeve and yanked it up to show the blackened Dark Mark starring out in all its grisly glory. "What makes you think you've got the sole right to hate that monster? He had your parents killed. He took your home. You still have your SOUL, Granger. He didn't take that."

It was Draco's turn to back her into the wall. "At least your mother is dead and not a fucking human zombie. At least your father never tortured people trying to impress a bunch of masked idiots. At least your front entryway never doubled as a throne room for a half-dead psychopath!" Draco grabbed her left arm and shoved the sleeve up. "At least this arm of yours only bears a bonding bracelet and not this." Draco shoved his Mark under her nose. "At least the mark you bear gives you something in return." Draco let her go and Hermione fell to the floor. Draco nodded back at Severus as he rolled his sleeve down. "You have him to make up for all you lost. All I have to compensate me for selling my soul is the promise of a painful death either way you look at it."

Draco turned on his heal and walked towards the door. He called back over his shoulder, "Get yourself together Mudblood."

Hermione picked herself up off the floor. "I'm not a Mudblood."

Draco sneered as he put his hand to the door handle. "You could have fooled me with the theatrics. For you, soiled blood is not a matter of genealogy, Penwrath. It is a matter of choice. You are still attached to that Muggle world. As long as you value it, you are a Mudblood. Either learn to be proud of what you are or change it." He slammed the door.

Severus watched her silently for a moment. She turned and looked at him, a helpless expression on her face.

"At least he got you to talk." Severus spoke carefully. Hermione gave a choked laugh as she started to cry.

"Come here, child." She practically flew into his arms. "Draco may have been a little harsh, but you needed to hear what he said, even if he was wrong."

"It all meant nothing. You gave up so much to save me and it meant nothing. I cost you your spying, I hurt the Order. I got my parents killed."

Severus snorted. "You helped Lucius and Draco turn to the light. You made me care for something other than myself and the blasted Order of the Phoenix, something I haven't done in over twenty years. You've given Lupin something to look at and be proud of, something he helped create, however unknowingly."

Snape helped her to the couch and held her close. "You have come up with several ways to keep Potter safe, a hard task I have been working at for years." Hermione tried to say something but Severus shook his head and stopped her. "As for your parents, Soren would have killed them eventually, regardless of you. Even had you married Flint they would have died because of the baby. Don't even think about my spying either. Voldemort would have found another test for me which I most likely would have failed just as spectacularly had you not been there." Severus lifted her chin to force her to meet his eyes. "You are a remarkably gifted young woman, Hermione Granger-Penwrath-Snape and don't you ever doubt that."

He brushed the tears out from her eyes. "Now pull yourself together and get up to the Great Hall for the Leaving Feast. Luna Lovegood has been trying to get in to see you for three days, something about you charming her belongings to come back to her at the end of the year. She thinks the spell has attracted invisible something or others that her father told her about. Since I refuse to allow that…that…that whatever-she-is into my private sanctuary, you will have to go to her in person and explain the impossibility of invisible magical houseflies stealing just one sock. My attempts have gained me nothing but a migraine."

Hermione again choked on a laugh but went to change into a fresh set of robes anyway. Severus watched her leave the room and made a mental note to send Draco both a Howler and a thank you card.

/ / / /

The next morning, Harry, Draco, and Hermione watched their schoolmates leave for Hogsmeade station in the not-so-horseless carriages. The sight of the thestrals made Hermione shiver. She no longer envied Harry the sight of them. Draco was silent and slightly frigid toward her until she smiled and touched his shoulder. She was still not comfortable in public, but she was dealing now, at least partially. She and Severus had talked for hours the night before. It had helped, as had several potions.

"Thank you, Draco." The blond looked confused. "Not everything you said was true; I don't want attention for what I did." She took a deep breath. "As a matter of fact I want everyone to forget it. And that is the problem. I can't have either." She smiled grimly. "But hiding my head in my Arithmancy won't do any good. It would be like Severus brewing fifty caldrons of Wolfsbane for only two werewolves. It might distract him, but the good that comes of it would be minimal." Hermione extended her hand and smirked. "What you did was stupid, Malfoy. Even Harry was smart enough not to provoke me like that. You showed true Gryffindor spirit there. There is hope for you yet."

Draco scowled but nevertheless took her hand. "Granger, you are one weird witch."

She laughed. "You are the only one to still call me that." She pulled him into a hug.

Draco looked down his nose at her. "You dare to touch the Malfoy?" A small chuckle escaped the blond as she released him. "Should I stop calling you that then?" Draco watched Remus out of the corner of his eye. Hermione caught the look and raised an eyebrow.

"No. I rather like it. You keep me from forgetting to be proud of being a Mudblood."

Several of the teachers that were standing nearby gasped at her using the 'm' word. Hermione ignored them and looped her arm through her husband's. "Come on, Severus. Let's go celebrate the summer and the lack of students to hamper our getting to really know each other." She looked back over her shoulder. "Have a good summer, Harry, Draco. Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

The naughty grin on her face made Harry laugh out loud and call after her, "Does that mean I can take a stab at your husband since he's firmly in the 'would do' category?"

McGonagall almost looked faint at the insinuation. Draco laughed out loud as his godfather's head almost flew off his shoulders and Hermione had to physically pull him inside. Dumbledore chuckled and pulled out an old soda can from his robes and held it out to the still chuckling, if slightly red, Harry. With the exception of the deputy Headmistress the other faculty members had followed the Potions master and his wife back inside.

"Time for you three to get going to Malfoy Manor. Lucius is waiting for you." Albus locked eyes with Harry. His expression went from jovial to worried. "Be careful, Mr. Potter. Sometimes danger is not always easy to see." He paused before he continued in his wispy voice, "The danger is not in losing ones life, but losing ones self."

Harry took the piece of rubbish and watched with bright, if somewhat confused, eyes as Lupin levitated their luggage. "I'll meet you two at the gates to the Manor. I'm Apparating with the luggage from outside the wards." Lupin took off with the trunks floating behind him.

Harry turned to Draco. "What are we waiting for?"

Draco turned and looked up at the castle. "Why do I have a bad feeling about this?"

Harry looked up to. "I always have a bad feeling when leaving here, especially by Portkey."

Draco snorted. "You should have a bad feeling coming back. Isn't this the first year there HASN'T been an attempt to kill you?"

Harry paused, "No, my third year was death attempt free…no wait. A dementor tried to kill me. He wasn't on orders, but…"

"Still counts." Draco smirked. "So if an attempt is made this summer does it count for this year or next?"

Harry smirked back. "Next year."

"Pity. Hate to break the streak. I could fire a couple curses…"

Harry laughed as Draco grabbed the Portkey. The summer had officially started.


	2. Chapter Two: Pianissimo

Complications of Birth

Complications of Birth - REVISED

Author: Saavik

Disclaimer: I am not making money off of this. I'd like to, but men in black suits would come and take me away.

Summary: Sequel to Contemplations of Birth and the WIP Convergence of Birth. Now in seventh year, our intrepid cast faces the ultimate test of their loyalty, strength, and sanity. (This was written prior to the release of book 6)

Pairings: HG/SS, HP/LM, DM/RL, GW/CC, and others

Warnings: Spoilers for Book Five. For the rest, see chapter one.

**Chapter Two: Pianissimo**

After Harry had picked himself up off the ground and squashed his initial urge to cower from a minor flashback to the third task, he took a moment to look around. He and Draco had landed just inside the gates to Malfoy Manor, as planned. Harry, at first, did not even see the house. All he saw was a wall of solid limestone rising above the tops of the trees. The mortar cracks were so tiny there were almost invisible and the stones themselves were massive. It was obvious the house was very old and magic had to have aided in the construction. There was no way Muggles could have lifted the stones without modern machinery. But why make such a big wall? After a good minute of staring he realized the wall _was _the house. He turned to Draco only to see the blond smirking. Harry quickly recovered, mentally scolding himself – what had he been expecting from the Malfoys, another Burrow?

A small pop sounded to Harry's right as Professor Remus Lupin and their luggage appeared. For his part, Professor Lupin was slightly less intimidated, or at least he managed to keep from openly gaping. Instead he took in the wall, glanced behind him to the gate, and shivered. Draco just shook his head at the two and motioned them up the drive. He would have plenty of time later to harass them about their obvious discomfort with the structure. Lucius was waiting at the door, a state of affairs Draco had long ago found it never paid to prolong.

"Welcome to Malfoy Manor." Lucius did not smile, at least not exactly. It was more of a half-hearted sneer combined with a tired grimace. His eyes took in the shabby robes of the professor, lingering over one particularly mismatched patch for longer than strictly polite. He spared his son a curt nod and a small twitch of the corner of his mouth. Harry, however, found himself pinned into place as the Malfoy patriarch appraised him, half expecting the cane to appear and his scar to once more be inspected.

"Mr. Potter. I never dreamed I'd have your presence in my home – willingly." Lucius seemed to be searching Harry's green eyes for _something_. Harry kept eye contact and tried to return the scrutiny glare for glare.

A house-elf appeared without any apparent summoning, bringing the odd moment to an abrupt end. Lucius nodded toward the bags and they snapped out of sight along with the small elf. Lucius purposefully turned away from the Boy-Who-Lived and stepped into the entryway.

"Come inside, gentlemen. Draco, see our guests to their rooms. Lunch will be promptly at noon, supper at seven thirty. Theoretical lessons will follow lunch, and practical after tea at four." Lucius than swept out of the entryway to his study without a backward glance, his heels clicking sharply on the marble.

Draco obediently started for the stairs, seemingly unperturbed by his father's rather abrupt behavior. Lupin was the first of the guests to recover, and shook Harry discreetly to get him to follow – The Boy-Who-Lived was to busy staring at the closed door of the study to even notice Draco had left. Harry followed Lupin slowly, repeatedly glancing back over his shoulder. Why had Lucius Malfoy looked at him like that? Harry wondered what the man had planned for him.

Draco paused at the top of the stairs and pointed over the railing. "If you're both going to be here for the rest of the summer, there are some rules. The entrance hall below is the only entrance and exit you will have access to that can possibly lead off the grounds." Draco looked smug as he continued to gaze down into the marble filled space below before slowly turning to once again face his guests. "All the other doors lead out into the walled gardens. The family entrances will not admit you, so don't try. I'd hate to have to pack either of you off to St. Mungos. It would interrupt my leisure time." Draco smirked as Harry rolled his eyes. "As you can see, there are four doorways off the main hall and the stair case we are on. The door to the left leads to father's study. Neither of you are allowed in there unless father invites you in. As a warning, the doorknob bites." Draco rubbed the back of his hand subconsciously.

"The door across from the entrance leads to the library." Draco narrowed his eyes. "The public library. While impressive, I have the feeling father will be providing you with more interesting reading material." This time Lupin was the one to narrow his eyes. Draco ignored him and pointed down. "Finally, there is a door underneath the staircase that leads to the formal entertainment areas. The ballroom, grand dinning room, and the music salon are all through there after a short mirrored hall. I doubt we will be entertaining this summer, what with you here, Potter."

Draco pulled his robes up a bit and continued to climb the staircase. "As you can see, the main stairs start on the right of the entrance way and end at a walkway that traverses the south wall above the library door. Off to the right is mother's wing and several guest quarters that we rarely use. Off to the left," Draco headed down the long walkway and through an arched doorway, "is the family wing and the guest rooms you'll be staying in."

The hallway itself was magnificent. The floors were not the opulent marble of the entryway and staircase, but were instead made of a cherry wood so perfectly stained it looked like the surface was awash with cranberry juice. There were windows dotting the walls, revealing a lush forest and pond beyond. They were obviously magical, Harry mused, considering several of them would have opened up onto the entryway instead of a wood. The lavishness of the hall was capped by the fact that all of the hall furnishings were upholstered in plush crimson velvet. It reminded Harry of the Gryffindor Common Room.

Seeing Harry's astonished expression, Draco sighed. "Expecting all green, Potter?" Harry nodded somewhat distractedly, busy examining a scarlet and gold runner on a side table. "Father saves that for his bedroom. Perhaps you'll see it sometime." Draco smirked as Harry blushed as red as the furnishings. Lupin took in the boys' interaction, and mentally noted to keep an eye on his friend's son. Harry was too young and too naive for whatever game Draco had planned.

Draco slapped Harry's hand away from an oriental box that was sitting on top of the table and proceeded with the tour. "The first door on the right goes into the first of the guest suits. You and the professor may have your pick of them. The best is the blue bedroom." Draco paused, "Unfortunately, its last occupant left before she could enjoy it thoroughly. I do hope the house-elves have cleaned up the mess." Draco shook himself to clear the unpleasant thoughts. "The door across the hall leads to another guest chamber. If you'd both rather have separate suites, feel free to use both of them. Each has about three bedrooms, a bath, and a sitting room."

"Thank you, Draco." Lupin turned to Harry. "Would you feel better with me in the next bedroom or across the hall?" he asked.

Harry thought for a moment. He saw Draco shifting nervously on his feet. "It would probably be best if you stayed across the hall, Professor. I'm afraid I'm not use to much company over the summers." Lupin looked suspicious as Draco's eyes flared with delight for a moment, before returning to their usual cool aloofness.

"Well that settles that, then." Draco beamed at them both. "Now, as for the rest of the hall. The second set of doors on either side lead to what is commonly used as the suite for the wives of the Lord of the manor and the heir. Since mother has her own wing, and I don't have a wife" – at this, the blond looked relieved – "both are empty. The last door on the right is father's, the left is mine. If you need anything and the house-elves can not assist you, knock on mine first. Father does not like to be disturbed." Draco started down the hall to his rooms

"Wait!" Harry called. "From the outside, this place is huge. Are there only two stories?"

Draco stopped and turned.

"No." He gave a small frown. "There are actually over a hundred rooms above ground. When the extended family lived here each portion had their own wing. It's not fashionable for a whole slew of family to live in the same building anymore." The blond boy gave a rueful sigh. "Most of the manor is empty now. For convenience, we only use the first two floors. There are two more floors with living quarters on them. Then there is the attic." Draco paused, "And, of course, the dungeons." The Malfoy heir did not wait for further questions. He turned on his heel, much like his father had done earlier, and disappeared into his room.

Harry and Lupin were left staring at each other.

Harry finally shrugged off his stupor. "So Professor, which side?"

"What?" Lupin had been caught off-guard by the question, busy pondering Draco's blatant attempts at imitating his father.

"Which side of the hall did you want?" Harry repeated.

"I'll take the one on the left," Lupin answered quickly. Harry smiled slightly, and shook his head. Lupin had no idea what he was getting into.

Harry entered the suite on the right and quickly found the blue bedroom. He shivered and walked back out. It might be the nicest of the guestrooms, but knowing that Hermione had been imprisoned there – well, no amount of decorating could shake his uneasiness. The second of the three bedrooms was red, like the hall. The third was the much-anticipated green. The red room had almost too much color, with the bed curtains and accoutrements all scarlet, and the floor a dark wood. The walls were paneled in a slightly lighter shade. Worst of all, the window looked out on a walled garden that was meticulously manicured, with a small koi pond in the center.

The green room had light maple floors, and the walls were a rich cream color with fern-like leaves magically bound to the wall, like a Muggle stencil. The bedding was green, a dark forest color and there were a considerable number of plants and several rugs. Harry crossed to the window. Instead of a manicured garden, the view showed a virtual wilderness. He could almost swear he saw a deer.

That settled it. He might prefer red, but the green room was more, homey. Harry paused, a smile creeping over his face. He'd just thought of Malfoy Manor as homey. He'd officially lost his mind. A soft knock at the door interrupted his musings about the food at St. Mungos.

"Come in."

Lupin walked tentatively in. He took a quick survey of the room and gave a soft smile. "Mine's yellow."

Harry grinned. "Yellow's nice. I liked this one more than the red one."

"A Gryffindor passing up red for green? Switching loyalties are we?" Lupin grinned and sat down in one of the armchairs, while Harry took the other one. The room had a magnificent corner fireplace, and with a swift flick Lupin had a cozy fire blazing. Summers here could still have a bit of a chill to them, mostly from the limestone, and it was early yet.

"Thanks." Harry looked around. "So what's the plan here, Professor? I mean, I'm supposed to learn magic, but it's the summer. I can't do anything without having the Ministry trying to expel me. And Malfoy has to be under close scrutiny after his arrest."

"Please, Harry, call me Remus." The werewolf tiredly rubbed his eyes. "It will be a _very_ long summer if all I hear is Professor this and Professor that." Remus sighed and looked at the fire before answering the boy's questions.

"The older wizarding mansions have wards that block out the Ministry's underage magic use detectors. And the Dark Art's ones, I might add. The Ministry is powerless to take the wards down; they are built into the stones themselves. That is how both Draco and Hermione knew so many spells before school. Lucius and Soren Wales were able to teach them anything, so long as it was done within the boundaries of the ancestral estates."

"That would make sense." Harry looked at the fire and took a deep breath. He really wanted to know, and now seemed like as good a time as any. "Remus?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"Is it true that you're - that you prefer - oh bugger it. Remus, are you gay?" Harry asked in a rush. He then blushed and looked down. He couldn't believe he'd asked like that. He was getting as bad as Ron, all the tact of a Hippogriff with a hangnail.

The werewolf gave a resigned sigh. "Yes. I wondered how long it would take you to ask." He smiled, and turned to meet Harry's inquisitive gaze. "Figuring out your sexuality can be a difficult thing. I remember how lonely and confused I felt back in my second year when I first noticed I was different. There were no teachers I could talk to. Fortunately, I had Sirius." A frown appeared and Remus furrowed his brow. "Only I'm not sure that was a good thing. He publicly outed me about three months later when he tried to set me up with a Ravenclaw that turned out to be homophobic."

Harry's eyes were wide. "How did you know I was – wait, Sirius did that?"

Remus chuckled. "He meant no harm. He honestly thought Maxwell was gay and 'perfect for me'." Remus shook his head and gave another small chuckle. "Sirius just never listens." He looked up and caught Harry's eyes again. "And as for my knowing your sexual preference, it's obvious Harry. If you spent anymore time staring at Draco's arse you wouldn't be able to fly your broom from being so cross-eyed."

Harry widened his eyes even further. "I don't stare at Draco's ass. I mean - do I really?"

Remus laughed. "Every chance you get! The whole school knows, Harry."

"Even Draco?"

"Even Draco."

They sat in silence for a minute. Harry felt a like a weight was gone all of a sudden – someone knew and understood. Hermione had been telling him to talk to somebody other than her and Ron about the issue. They really couldn't fully grasp what it felt like. For Harry, his sexuality was just another thing to make him different from everyone else. Another thing to make him special. He watched Remus as the man brooded in the chair across from him. Something was bothering the man – Draco! That had to be it. Harry suddenly felt terrible. "I'm sorry."

Remus jumped slightly and sat up straighter. "Whatever for?"

"I know he and you have a thing." Harry did not need to say the name. They both understood what he was talking about.

"Harry, there is nothing between Draco and I. If you want to make a play for him, do it. Just be careful, he is a Malfoy. I don't need to warn you about what these old Dark Arts families are like. You've seen Sirius' house." Remus spoke sincerely, but Harry could see his eyes did not mean it.

So far, Malfoy Manor was entirely different from Number 12 Grimmauld Place. The house felt – well, it felt lived in, and loved. There was a sense of, dare he say it, family. There was a feeling of family and peace and – Harry shook his head. It must be the Portkey; it was messing with his sanity. He caught Remus' eye and noticed how the man seemed to be warring with himself. Harry just had to try and put it to rest. Remus did care for Draco, whether or not he would admit it.

"I wouldn't know how to 'make a play', Remus. And besides, Draco's taken. Whether or not you want to believe it." Harry smiled. "Remus, stop pretending you don't see it. Draco Malfoy has seen a challenge, you, and he's not about to back down."

"That, Harry, is what I'm worried about. I don't think I can…"

Harry did not know what to say to that. What the ministry had done was…inhuman. Hell, it was worse than that. It was beyond barbaric. He tried the only thing he could. "Give it time, Remus. Give it time."

/ / / /

Lunch was uneventful. Harry and Remus sat on one side of a large rectangular table with Lucius and Draco facing them. Narcissa did not make an appearance. There wasn't any conversation. Lucius kept a suspicious eye on the werewolf, almost like he expected the silverware to disappear. Remus, for his part, remained calm despite the thinly veiled contempt and mistrust directed at him. Harry, however, was almost crawling out of his skin. Lucius eyed the boy as he squirmed for the umpteenth time.

"So, Mr. Potter. What is it Severus has been teaching you?" the man asked as the dishes disappeared with a soft pop. He steepled his fingers and raised an eyebrow, clearly expecting a lengthy response.

Harry cleared his throat and tried to say something. His voice didn't seem to be working. The pureblood wizard was extremely intimidating. Somehow it was far easier to deal with him when throwing curses was the order of the day, instead of finger bowls and vast arrays of forks.

Lupin tried to help. "I believe Severus was working on offensive…" He did not finish. Lucius' hand had abruptly come up in a halting gesture.

"Potter is capable of answering for himself." Lucius glared at the boy. "So, what have you learned?"

Harry frantically searched his mind for what to say. He didn't want to give anything away; after all, Lucius could still be the enemy. He looked to Draco and saw a calculating look in his rival's eye. Draco gave a silent nod toward his father, urging the Gryffindor to trust the Death Eater. Harry sighed, and gave in. What choice did he have?

"Professor Snape had us working mostly on wandless magic. He didn't want to teach us anything dark. He said it wasn't something I could handle. He kept mostly to stuff I could have picked up from the restricted section, a few blocking spells and an offensive hex or two. Oh, and he taught me to apparate." Harry bristled as Lucius frowned.

"I would have thought Severus of all people would have gotten down to business. Well, Draco, do you have anything to add to this? Has Severus imparted anything more useful to you?"

"No father." Draco paused. "Severus wasn't comfortable teaching us Dark Arts. He said it brought back to many bad memories."

"Hmm, of that I have no doubt. His mother is a highly unpleasant woman, to put it mildly. All right, we'll start with the basics then. Lupin, fetch some parchment. They will need to take notes." Lucius stood up gracefully and started from the room. "Well hurry up. I haven't all day." He called over his shoulder.

Draco and Harry eyed one another and went to follow. Harry paused in the doorway. "Do you want me to get the parchment, Remus? I think I have some in my trunk."

"No, go on. If you dally, Lucius will get testy." Harry raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms and Remus grinned. "Alright, more testy." Harry tired to hide his smile behind his hand and Draco huffed.

Remus frowned as he watched the boys leave before he went to get the parchment. He felt like a bloody house-elf, but he knew better than to fight with Lucius Malfoy in his own home. What the man was doing could very well save Harry's life. While he didn't approve, it was not his place to argue. Something told him Sirius would not take kindly to that or any justification. There was no way the Animagus would find the situation acceptable. Remus had a firm suspicion that Sirius would rather Harry die than learn the Dark Arts. The Black family had not been kind in their instruction.

Back in Lucius' study, the boys had taken seats facing the large oak desk beside the fireplace. Lucius sat stoically behind it, arms folded neatly on top. Lupin arrived a few minutes later, out of breath and carrying an arm full of parchment and two large quills. He handed each boy a set and went to find a seat. There were no chairs left. Remus pulled his wand and transfigured a piece of the parchment into a comfortable looking armchair complete with purple stripes and a matching tea cozy. Lucius sneered but made no comment. It was obvious that the old foul at Hogwart's was having more than a small influence on those around him. He made a mental note to avoid spending time with the headmaster, as if he needed the note.

"Alright, it is time for your first lesson. As I said earlier, theoretical work first. Now, I'm not going to try and tell you the Dark Arts are fun. They aren't. They are neither easy nor conducive to one's health. The very thing that makes them dark is what is inside you. Believe the Ministry and they'll tell you that the Dark Arts can be categorized. They can't be. What makes something dark isn't the spell, with two noticeable exceptions." Lucius paused. "Well, aren't you going to copy this down?"

Draco had his quill out already and had been making some sort of lined doodle while staring glaze-eyed into the candle sitting on Lucius' right. Harry had been paying attention, not to the words so much as the voice. Lucius had stopped using his superior than thou tone and had instead used a softer one. Harry was caught up in it. The man's snapped-out question had ripped him out of his stupor with force. Both boys jumped and frantically started jotting down notes.

Lucius glared at both in turn. "I expect you to pay attention." He picked up his wand and extinguished the candle.

Harry felt like he was back in his first potions lesson. At least Malfoy wasn't swooping around, though it was early days yet.

Remus, for his part, was amused. It was obvious Lucius had had no experience teaching. He snickered quietly and refused to be cowed by Malfoy's irritated glare in his direction. Lupin remembered that even in school, Lucius had not been very good with tutoring. The subject matter couldn't be helping things either. The Dark Arts were not something one normally taught their own children. Traditionally, tutors were hired to lessen the parent's guilt. The Snape and Black families were notable exceptions to this. Both mothers had seen to it that their sons were well versed in the more questionable side of magic. Lady Snape in the thought that it would prove to protect her son, and Mrs. Black in order to allow Sirius to follow his older brother's example.

"Now, if Lupin is quite finished, let me elaborate." Lucius stood and moved to pace in front of the fire. "A spell's nature is directly tied to the intent of the caster. If a spell is to be dark, the caster must have dark intentions."

"But father, if that is true, couldn't a tickling hex be dark?" Draco asked, his eyes reflected the firelight. He looked so eager to please Harry expected him to leap up and start begging like Snuffles for a sandwich.

The dark wizard beamed at his son. "Exactly Draco. That is something the Ministry would like to keep secret." Lucius turned to lean against the mantle. He stared into the flames, almost as hypnotized as his son had been moments before. Harry sharply inhaled as the man arched his back and robbed the back of his neck causally. Harry had never expected to see such an uninhibited action from the man. Draco turned to eye him carefully and Harry glared back.

Lucius did not appear to notice the boys. He kept his gaze trained solely on the flames and in a soft, clear voice continued. "But the reverse is also true. A curse to, say disembowel, could be light if the motives behind it were."

Harry spoke up. "But sir, what possible intent could there be behind that kind of a curse other than to cause harm? Isn't the intent to harm always dark?"

Lucius turned back around. Remus watched calmly for the answer. This was where the difference between Dark Wizards and Light was made. Harry's question was one that the two sides had been arguing over for centuries.

"Not exactly. Harm can be caused by a levitation charm, if applied correctly and with the right intentions. What makes something Dark is whether or not you _want it to be_." He turned to Lupin. "Care to interject."

Remus leaned back. "What you say is correct, in part. Intent to harm is not what really matters. What is important is the reason for the harm." Remus frowned, "It's not as simple as it sounds. Reasons and motives are known only to the castor. That's where the problem comes in. Because motives cannot be objectively determined, the Ministry has not made a distinction between what is Dark and what is illegal. If something is seen as one it is automatically made the other. The true nature of the Dark Arts has been hushed to make the public feel safe and to give a scapegoat for the social inequality and prejudice we face everyday."

Lucius nodded and some of the tension drained from his shoulders. He had been expecting a fight. "Thank you, Lupin. I had expected an all out argument, like from your sixth year."

"That was Severus and Sirius. I kept quiet, and James was too busy trying to turn Cynthia's hair purple to care." Remus gave a smile at Harry's look of confusion. "I'll tell you all about it later, Harry."

Lucius gave a small smile. "Very well then. If I'm not going to have to face a debate this afternoon, I'll cut to the heart of the matter." He paused for a breath. "Not only is it necessary for a Dark spell to have the intent to harm, but you have to desire that harm. The level of pleasure you gain from casting effects the strength of the spell. It's that way with all magic. You can levitate a building if you wish, so long as your desire to do so is great enough. The Patronus charm is the most ready example. The happy thoughts used to conjure the Patronus reflect your desire to feel happy. Furthermore," he sat back down and pulled his wand out and laid it on the desk, "if I was to pick this up and cast Cruciatus at Draco, what would happen?"

Draco squirmed in his chair and bit his lip. He did not answer. Harry sighed and answered somewhat dejectedly. "Nothing."

Lucius looked startled, both by the answer and Harry's tone of voice. "Why would you say that?"

"Because from what I've seen, you wouldn't enjoy torturing Draco. Cruciatus won't work unless you want to see the victim in pain, see it and take a great deal of pleasure in causing that pain."

Lucius narrowed his eyes at the Gryffindor. "You seem rather sure of your answer."

Now Harry squirmed and looked at the floor. Remus had a sinking feeling. "You've tried it, haven't you?" He asked quietly and felt his heart stop as Harry nodded.

Lucius simply stared for a moment before slowly asking, "I take it you were unable to cast?"

Harry smiled grimly. "Oh I knocked the bitch off her feet. But nothing else. Voldemort took the time to explain to my why it didn't work. Bloody bastard."

Malfoy's eyes started to twinkle, "Bellatrix, I presume?" Harry nodded. "Served her right. After a bit of training, I can guarantee you'll be able to have her wreathing." Lupin glared and tried not to be offended. This was what they were here for after all. Draco sat back in his chair, shock clearly evident on his face. The golden boy had cast an Unforgivable. Wonders never ceased.

Lucius continued on after giving another considering look at the black haired boy. "As I said earlier, there are two spells that do not operate by the same rules as the rest. Any spell, regardless of classification, can be light or dark depending on the caster. Some are more easily one or the other, hence the Ministries regulations, but anything can be both except for two. Cruciatus and a one other. Any guesses?"

Draco looked thoughtful. "Imperius could be used for good. If the intent was to stop someone from doing something stupid like suicide, for instance." His eyes strayed to his mother's portrait over the mantle before he continued. "And the killing curse could have a positive intent behind it, if it was a mercy killing or something like."

Lucius nodded. "Correct. There is debate over whether or not the spell is dark if the purpose is 'for the greater good' so to speak. If Potter was to fire off Avada at Voldemort's back, for instance, it would be debatable whether it was a Dark spell or Light. He would be ridding the world of an evil, but murdering in cold blood. Not to mention the question of his enjoyment of the act. But that does not answer my question. What is the other spell?"

Lupin was still reeling from Harry having cast an unforgivable; he was unprepared for Harry's rather bitter answer. "Obliviate."

Draco snapped around to look at Potter. "The Ministry uses that spell all the time. How could it be dark?"

Harry looked him in the eye. "Intent, remember? To make an Obliviate work you have to want to take a person's memory, to steal it from them. You have to know you're going to take pleasure in them not having it. Just like the Cruciatus, the emotions of the caster have to want the outcome, and want to revel in it."

Lucius smiled a genuine smile. "True. For Obliviate to work, the caster has to have at least a little bit of a desire to rob and enjoy the act. The stronger the desire, the harder the spell is to break."

Harry frowned. "Snape cast an Obliviate on me, at my instance."

Lucius nodded. "You want to know how he enjoyed it?" Harry made eye contact. "Severus has been through what you two are about to face. He has learned to take pleasure in other's misfortunes. In essence, he was taught to be a psychopath."

/ / / /

The rest of the theoretical lesson went in a blur. Harry could only think about what Lucius had revealed – the real reason why Severus hadn't gotten into the Dark Arts with them beyond a few simple spells. In order to fire off a true Dark Spell one had to want it to be Dark. Harry was trying to come to grips with the fact that he would have to develop a liking, at least a partial one, for causing pain and harm. Lucius confessed that he had never fully attained that. He could use an Unforgivable, but his curses were not nearly as strong as say, Pettigrew's. While a much stronger wizard, Lucius did not have the necessary disposition. As startling as it was to discover that Mr. Malfoy wasn't good at the Dark Arts, it was more so to find out that Snape _was_. Harry had just started to like the man, and now this. Severus Snape had the ability to cast any spell and make it powerfully Dark. Lucius tried to explain that Snape had created an almost alternate personality within himself in order to do it. Malfoy even said he had tried the same thing, with a varying degree of success. In truth, that was the goal of their training. Malfoy wanted to make them create a small portion of their personality, their souls, devoted to hate and pain and suffering. Harry shivered. He didn't know if he could do it. He didn't know if he wanted to.

Draco hadn't liked what he heard either. While the boy knew the 'Dark' curses already, he hadn't been trained. And he had yet to even attempt an Unforgivable. The three 'Darkest' curses took a considerable amount of energy, both magical and emotional. Harry knew that for a fact. What Draco had been taught was simply the illegal curses that the Ministry had labeled as Dark. He had never been taught to channel his emotions to the negative side when casting them, or a legal curse for that matter. Some spells responded better to light, or happy emotions, and others negative or Dark ones. Draco, like Harry, now had to learn how to figure out which to use and how to make himself feel only the emotion that would garner the largest effect at the exact moment of casting. The easiest way was to recall a memory that evoked the proper emotional response. It sounded very hard, and very dangerous. Dumbledore's warning from that morning echoed in his ears: "the danger is in losing one's self."

As such, Harry was scared, far more so than Draco. Malfoy thought he could do it; he thought he could keep himself whole and still manage the Dark Arts. But Harry knew the truth. He could see it Lucius' eyes and in Severus'. He could see it in his own when he looked in the mirror. The small voice in his head, the one that had told him to kill Bellatrix Lestrange, the one that had made him yell out the Cruciatus, it called to him. It promised power and respect. It told him he could have everything he ever wanted and all he had to do for it was touch the power. He just had to let out what he truly was. If he let himself hate all the time, he could be so much more powerful. After all, hate was the emotion that fueled destructive curses and hexes, the most powerful of magics. The voice told him to abandon hope and happiness. Really, what was a Patronus good for? What could you really do with a levitation charm? The Cruciatus was so much more useful, so beautiful when cast, like a symphony. In the end, the only thing that kept the voice at bay was the slight drawing out of the S's. Harry knew that voice. It haunted his dreams and echoed in his memories. He would not become what he had to fight. He wouldn't do it. If destroying Voldemort meant becoming the same monster, Harry vowed to fail.

But that still left him at Malfoy Manor learning the Dark Arts. It wouldn't be long until the practical lesson. Lucius Malfoy had said the key to learning to wield your inner Darkness was to control it instead of it controlling you. Only truly powerful wizards could manage it. Voldemort had not been powerful enough, nor had Grindelwald. Snape was; he could turn off the hatred at will. Or at least that was what Malfoy had said. Having experienced a few of the potion master's classes, Harry was sure there was a bit of a spill over. And importantly, Snape resisted using the Arts whenever possible. In fact, the theoretical lesson had explained Snape's reluctance to cast much at all. It also explained his disdain for 'foolish wand waving'. Every time Snape picked up his wand, he had to fight the urge to cast with the negative, Dark side of his psyche. And the more one uses the negative emotions to fuel their spells, the more they come to rely on the rush and the simplicity. It is far easier for the human mind to recall moments of embarrassment or anger than joy. Most spells would work just as well with an extremely angry caster as a happy one. Falling into the trap of using just Dark emotions was the downfall of many a wizard and witch.

The Boy-Who-Lived tiredly rubbed his eyes and sank down onto his bed. What was he going to do? He knew he wasn't strong enough. He couldn't do this. If he really did turn Dark, what would happen? Would he kill the Dursleys like Riddle had his family? Would he start a blood bath to end all? The small voice in his head whispered lies to him, told him he was strong enough, that he could control it. Harry knew better. Harry knew his own strength, and he could feel it crumbling.

/ / / /

Lucius Malfoy sat staring at his fire. What was he doing? He questioned his sanity for a moment until he remembered that according to Severus, he didn't have any. Lucius took another sip of brandy and felt the liquid finally start to cloud his mind. The boys had left an hour ago and he had been steadily drinking ever since. He was confident that by teatime he'd be too drunk to see straight. With any luck he'd be passed out in time for the practical.

He looked up at the portrait of his father that resided over the back of his desk. He'd charmed the damn thing to be silent his first week as Lord Malfoy. As such, the painting never looked pleased with him. Of course, his father had never looked pleased in life so why this came as a surprise was lost to him. As his eyes found the lacquered frame, Lucius almost dropped his drink. The fierce face above his desk was smirking at him and looking smug. Lucius felt his stomach turn. He drank the last of the alcohol in his glass and stood up.

"Why look so pleased, father?" The portrait managed to look even more self-righteous as it pointed to the pile of Dark Arts books lying on the desk and then to the picture of Draco sitting next to them. The man than crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. Lucius had seldom regretted having the man killed, but in that moment he wished with all his heart he hadn't. If the man had been alive, Lucius could have had the satisfaction of killing him with his bare hands. As it was, he had to satisfy his urge for patricide by sending a flaming curse towards the portrait. He inhaled the smell of burning oil paint with glee. Of course, like all the portraits it was protected. The flames only lasted for a few precious moments before they cooled and the picture restored itself. The former Lord Malfoy looked decidingly rumpled and far from happy. He brandished his painted wand at his living son and started shouting. The words were clear, if silent. The damn painting could hurl the Killing Curse all it wanted. The dead could not affect the living. Lucius sneered and left the room. There was someone he needed to talk to.

/ / / /

A quiet knock drew Harry upright in bed. He sighed and waved his hand absentmindedly at the door. The small sound of the bolt drawing back made Harry smile a little and send a silent thank you to his potion's master. The wandless magic lessons had at least paid off.

Remus' head appeared inside his door as Harry let his own head fall back to his pillows. Remus came inside with a small frown, as the Boy-Who-Lived didn't bother to get up.

"Harry, what is it? Why didn't you answer the door?"

Harry let his tone sound as contrary as he felt. "I must have answered, Remus. You're standing in here." He almost regretted saying it for a moment as the concern on his professor's face turned to a disappointed look. But then Remus gave a small shake of his head and a tiny smile.

"That is not answering the door. That is waving your wand and making things happen." The smile disappeared and an all too familiar look took its place. Harry wondered why he'd never noticed before that Hermione and Remus got the same look when they were about to lecture. "Magic is not a toy, Harry. Needless spell casting…"

Harry rolled over and huffed, interrupting the professor. "Don't talk to me about needless casting right now, okay? I've heard enough to last a life time." Harry flopped back to his original position and stared at the ceiling. "I just need to do a spell every now and then. It helps me to feel alive. I've always cast a simple spell just for the feel of it. I've done it since I came to Hogwarts. It's the only thing that makes all of this feel real." Harry wandlessly levitated a book as he spoke, twirling in the air.

"Harry…" Remus grabbed the copy of 'Death and You, a Guide to the Other Side' and placed it back on the table.

"Remus, please. I'm having a moment here. Let me finish." Harry snapped.

Remus sat down carefully on the side of the bed. "Alright. Talk to me. I'll listen. But I'm not leaving."

Now that he had permission to rant, and an audience, Harry didn't' know where to start. He took a deep breath and plunged. "Did you know about the Dursleys before the article?"

"Only what I saw when we came and picked you up back in your fifth year."

"The article was all true."

Remus was silent.

"Every last thing she said. About the closet, the birthdays, the table scraps." Harry rubbed his eyes and let them close. "I have a whole slew of memories to cast with, Remus. Unfortunately, they all are rather Dark. I fear I might be a bit too good at this for my own taste." Remus so wanted to interject but he kept quiet and let the boy talk. "I've never thought about it before, but every time I cast a spell, unless I'm directly facing danger or something, I'm thinking about how wonderful it is to do magic. I think about the moment Hagrid told me I was a wizard. I think about the first glimpse of Diagon Alley I ever had. I was so awed I almost couldn't walk… I think about the castle coming into view from the boats. It was like coming home even though I'd never been there before, at least that I can remember. I see Hedwig flying during that first Christmas without Dudley to torment me. And Hermione, I see her smiling face in the Great Hall after I got out of the hospital wing, any of the times I was there. I smell Mrs. Weasley's cooking and hear the chattering of the portraits in halls. I've always turned every Lumos into a moment of contentment. Magic is the only thing that makes me feel at home. If I go through with this, I'll lose that. Instead of remembering the wind on the quidditch pitch, I'll remember Ginny's face as she lay on the floor of the Chamber. I'll see Sirius falling through the veil and hear Bellatrix laughing. I'll see Hermione shaking at her wedding and her damn uncle looking slightly awed at Malfoy and glaring at Dumbledore."

Remus reached a hand out and touched the boy's shoulder. The small wizard flinched but didn't move away.

"I don't want to relive it all, Remus. I see it too much in my dreams. I don't want to face it during the day too." Harry slowly lifted his arms from his eyes and traced the scar on his inner arm from Wormtail's knife. "I have too many nightmares."

"Say the word and I'll take you home, Harry."

A bitter laugh sounded and Harry drug his nails down over the scar. "What home? Grimmauld place isn't a home; it's a slightly moldy prison. Hogwarts is not much better. Face it, I might as well stay here. At least Malfoy isn't trying to manipulate me to kill or be killed. He's quite honest with his expectations."

Remus tried to keep his voice even, "Albus only means the best for you."

"He means the best for the Order and for the Wizarding World. I'm just another tool. And that's all right, Remus. I like the idea of being a tool. A tool doesn't feel does it? What would it be like to not feel?" Harry asked dreamily, his fingers still tracing the long scar.

"It wouldn't be anything good. You'd be like Him." Remus took the boy's hands and stopped the movement.

Harry slowly met his eyes. "Maybe I already am."

/ / / /

Lucius walked up the staircase and headed towards his son's room. He briefly paused outside the Potter boy's suite before continuing on down the hall. It was doubtful the child was up to anything, yet. And he had more important things to deal with than the possibility of a rouge Gryffindor wandering his home.

He continued on to Draco's door after glaring at each of the quest suites. He barely managed to remember to knock when he reached the closed and warded door. As Lord of the Manor he hadn't needed to do so for decades. He had a feeling that if his son got his wish, knocking might become a necessity in the Manor once again. Lucius almost smiled remembering his own youth when his mother had found him and Narcissa in the music room…she'd knocked on every door from then until her death a few months later. His thoughts were interrupted as a rumpled blond head poked out of the door startling him.

"Potter, whatever it is, bugger off!….Father." Draco looked slightly sheepish. "Father, I'm sorry. I thought you were, well…come in." Draco opened the door wider and let his father through. Lucius took a moment to survey the room. He was surprised to see that Draco had divided the large sitting room into small spaces, each no larger than about 250 square feet with ceilings of only about eight. When he had lived in the heir's suit the sitting room had been quite large with an extremely high ceiling and decorated in dark blue. Draco had divided the room into two stories with a small metal spiral staircase in the center going up to a loft area covered in book shelves. The walls were all stone. The most predominate color other than the gray of the bare walls was the deep black of the furnishings. In all, it resembled the Slytherin common room. Last time he'd been in his son's room it had contained a cradle and an abundance of pastel bunnies. Of course, at the time Draco's room had been in the Lady's suite and Draco only a week old…

Lucius had never once entered his old rooms since he'd moved to the Lord's chambers after his father's death. He'd never had a reason to seek them or the boy out. Normally, he would call an elf to summon the child. Just like his father had always done with him. He, like Draco, had spent years living across the hall from his father and never once had either been in the other's quarters. Privacy was worth more than gold, his father use to say. Lucius had once knocked on his father's door, instead of sending an elf, only to spend the next three minutes wreathing from the Cruciatus. His quiet tapping had disturbed his father's playtime with his mistress. Lucius' back stiffened at the memory.

"Father? What is it?" Lucius turned to Draco. The boy looked highly concerned, and irritated. The older wizard wondered what activity of Draco's he had interrupted. The boy's hair was a mess but his cloths were in order. The large afghan lying on the sofa could explain, if Draco had simply been napping. His son tried to stifle a yawn and Lucius decided that was it. Draco waited another minute for a reply to his question before asking again, this time with a bit of half-concealed impatience. "What is it you need, Father? Why did you come in person? Is there something wrong?" Draco's hand hovered over his left arm and his eyes flashed a bit at the unbidden thought of the Dark Lord.

Lucius sat down wearily in one of the black leather armchairs in front of the fire. The green glowing flames actually calmed him; the fire was the same kind that normally burned in the Slytherin dormitories. It had been years since he'd sat in front of a green fire. He remembered lighting them in the same fireplace over the summers when he got home sick for Hogwarts. The double irony of the situation was not lost on him. Two generations of Malfoy's more at home at a boarding school where they were detested than in their own ancestral mansion. He gave bitter laugh and watched Draco cringe. He stifled the harsh sound and brushed his hair behind his ear.

"Draco, I'm asking you to listen to me carefully and do what I say." The boy's eyes again showed fear but then they seemed to harden and the young Death Eater nodded solemnly. "I want you to fail at the Dark Arts lessons."

Draco gasped and tried to interrupt but Lucius kept on talking. "I know I raised you to believe that Malfoy's never fail at anything. This is the exception. I've watched what they've done to too many of my friends. I won't have you turn into the same kind of monster. Bellatrix used to be a sweet girl, Avery and Nott used to be so full of life. Now all three can only laugh if another person is in pain."

"Father, you can't stop the lessons! Potter needs to be able to cast no matter what he's feeling. I doubt he'll be feeling all warm and cushy when the Dark Lord and he next meet. If he knows the spells that respond best to his anger he can use them. He needs to know how to channel those emotions. You said so yourself."

"Yes, I did." Lucius nodded grimly. "But you don't need to know them. The only spells that HAVE to be Dark are the Cruciatus and Obliviate. Voldemort doesn't bother with the memory altering spells. As for Cruciatus, you can get around casting it as long as you're creative with your other spells. I haven't cast that curse more than a handful of times outside of practice."

"What are you saying?" Draco sat down in the chair opposite and tried to brush his hair flat. All he managed was a good imitation of the infamous Potter look.

"I'm telling you to learn the last few spells you don't know, the last few the Death Eaters will expect you to know. I'm asking you to not even try to do what I'm forcing Potter into. Look at Severus, he doesn't have a friend in the world. Look at me, Draco, I'm a crazy wizard who's old far before his time. The Dark Arts will not bring you power. They can only take you're happiness." Lucius leaned forward and took his sons hands. Draco started but didn't move away.

"Severus seems happy."

Lucius sighed. "Severus is a unique man. And his happiness revolves solely around Hermione. I'm not sure how he has managed to do what he has. His happiness with Hermione is more a symptom of a problem than anything else. Don't you think it's a bit odd how those two have fallen so completely in love? They are like two drowning people holding on to each other for dear life. Severus has latched onto her as his last chance at something even mildly normal. And remember, Severus rarely picks up his wand. While he's a powerful Dark Wizard, he hardly uses his powers. Unless you want to take up a magical art that doesn't involve a wand, like potions, than I suggest you listen to me. The more you use the Arts, the more you loose yourself to them."

"You've been using them for years. You are…"

"I'm a monster! Draco, look at me! I'm not the same man I was. I'm hardly holding myself together. I spent twenty years torturing people trying to enjoy it. I never managed to. Every 'Dark' spell I've cast has only been half-strength at best. Voldemort has no idea how powerful I really am. He thinks I'm no more magically gifted than Crabbe or Goyle. I can't do a spell to full capacity and make it Dark. I don't enjoy it enough. I can't revel in it. I tried to so hard, I wanted to enjoy it but I couldn't' This act, this being a perfect Malfoy, unfeeling, cold, always in control. It's an act, Draco. An act I can't keep up anymore. I'm not going to ask you to try. My father was an utter git. I'm not going to be the same way. I'm not going to drive you to having me killed like I had him. And I will not have you become me. I'll be damned if this family will continue on the way it has."

Lucius griped his son's hands tighter for a moment than let them go. Draco stared down at them for a moment than asked in a shaky voice, "What brought all this on?"

Lucius starred into the green fire. "The bastard smiled at me. For the first time in my life my father looked at me with approval. I thought I'd never see it. There was a time I would have given anything to. Now, now I know the truth. If it makes that sadist happy then I shouldn't be doing it." Lucius nervously rubbed his left arm. "Promise me, Draco. Promise me you won't even try to focus you're negative emotions. I know you'll still have them, and they will affect your magic, but no more so than any normal wizard."

Draco unconsciously touched his Mark in imitation, "Father,"

"No excuses." Lucius turned and stared hard into the boy's eyes. " Promise me."

The hard, desperate look his father gave left Draco little choice. "I promise."

"Thank you." Lucius held his gaze for a moment longer then looked back at the fire. "I've missed this fireplace. I use to light the same kind of a fire here in the summers. It reminded me of home." Draco made no comment but gave a small sad smile and let the topic change to something they were both more comfortable with.

"I had a terrible time trying to replicate it. For some reason it always came out purple." Draco frowned. "I hate purple."

Lucius chuckled. "That would be your mother's fault. She made your whole nursery in shades of purple. And bunnies, lots of bunnies."

Draco sighed. "I wish I could have known her then. I mean the real her. What happened? I mean, there was only a year between my birth and Potter's little miracle. How did she deteriorate so fast?"

Lucius did not look at his son. "Once you were born there was nothing I could do to keep her from the meetings." He placed his head in his hands. "I tried, sweet Merlin did I try. Voldemort said no exceptions could be made. I think my attempts to keep her safe made it worse. The Dark Lord saw how much I cared for her and wanted that devotion all to himself." Lucius felt his son's hand on his shoulder and he shook the touch off out of habit. It returned hesitantly a moment later and he let it stay. He needed it. He looked up and caught the gray eyes so like his own and blinked. "That's why I never showed you much affection, and never in public. I was worried He'd find out, even after He was gone. I thought that if I let people know I loved you they'd take you away too."

Draco kept his hand on his father and moved slowly to the floor next to the chair. "Father, I understand. You don't have to explain."

"Yes I do." Lucius gently touched his son's cheek and brushed the blond hair back. It was getting longer. He absentmindedly wondered if Draco was growing it out to match his own. "I've failed you so many times. I should never have taught you the illegal curses. I shouldn't have raised you to hate muggles and muggle-borns. I didn't even realize I was doing it at the time. The language and the posture are so ingrained…I never thought about it. I'm sorry. I should have taken you away from this." He withdrew his hand and pulled his robe closer as if he was chilled. The room was warm, warmer than his office, but somehow he felt cold. "Your mother, in an all too rare moment of clarity, asked me to send you to Beauxbatons. I denied her. I couldn't stand to have you so far away. I know I've not been open with you and I never have been there for you, but I wanted to be."

Draco sat silent. In a way he felt sorry for his father. The man looked so lost and he kept rubbing his left arm. Draco often caught himself making the same move. He wondered if he'd be sitting in the same chair in twenty years and asking for forgiveness in the same way. Of course, Draco doubted Lucius knew that was why he had come. Draco looked at the lines that were slowly etching themselves onto his father's face. The firelight accentuated each crease in the aristocrats pale skin. For a moment Draco regretted the firelight. It cast a green pale so reminiscent of the Killing Curse it sent a thread of fear through him. Draco shivered. He doubted he'd live long enough to have such lines. Would any Malfoy ever even live in these rooms after him?

"What is it, Draco?" Lucius noticed his son's change in expression. The quick flash of fear had made his eyes light and then they had gone dull with sorrow.

Draco leaned back against the chair and gave his own sigh. "Will we live through this? Look at what we've already lost. I've never really known my mother. Now I'm finding out I've never really known you. I always wanted to be just like you. But in this last year and a half since You-Know-Who arose, you've changed. You talk to me more. And, for the first time, you hugged me. Right after I got off the train in fourth year, you hugged me. Right in front of some of the Slytherins. There I was covered in tentacles, and you hugged me like you thought I'd disappear." Draco kept his back turned and did not notice the silent tears on Lucius' face. "In that moment I realized I didn't want to be just like you because you were strong and you brought fear. I wanted to be like you because you were my father." There was a pause. "Do you know that several of us Slytherins formed a group in fifth year at the same time as Potter to study DADA?"

"No." Lucius tried to keep his surprise from his voice. Draco smiled at the controlled tone.

"Unlike them, we were too smart to get caught." Draco pulled his wand from his sleeve and inspected it in the green light. "One of the first things we did was practice the Patronus charm. The book said it was the only pure light spell in existence. It said to find a happy memory and concentrate on it while you cast. The happier the memory the stronger the spell."

Lucius nodded.

"I tried the spell thinking about the time Potter got detention. I tried when Hagrid was arrested. I tried the moment when we found out Granger got petrified. Nothing worked."

Lucius kept still.

"Then I thought about that hug on the platform. I was the only Slytherin to get the spell to work." Draco turned and looked up at his father. "Not only did it work, my Patronus was fully formed."

Lucius simply sat there. Draco smiled, again a little sadly. "That was my happy memory, father. Of all the things that have happened in my life, that moment was filled with the most joy." Draco got to his feet and still holding his wand, walked to the window that looked down onto the front lawn and gates. "If Voldemort hadn't existed, how many more memories would I have had to choose from? How many more hugs would you have given me? Would I know what mother's laughter was like? I've never heard it, you know. I have no idea what it sounded like."

Lucius heard himself whisper a response. "It sounded like bells. Silver, and crystal, and brass bells. It moved like a ripple through you. And when she stopped, you felt like the world was holding still. You forgot to breathe and the very air was holding its breath with you." Lucius stood and went to the window to stand next to his son. For a long moment neither moved.

"What's going to happen?" Draco brushed a tear off his cheek. "Are we going to be the last two to stand here?"

Lucius shook his head. "I don't know, Draco. But I pray not." Lucius smiled and moved closer till his robes and Draco's brushed each other. "But I do know I want to have a gaggle of grandchildren, if you're willing." Lucius then narrowed his eyes. "Just make sure they aren't with someone like Bulstrode."

Draco let out a nervous laugh. "Father, that will not be a problem." Draco stopped and then took a deep breath. "Would you be too disappointed with just one grandchild?"

Lucius kept his eyes straight ahead. "Not in the slightest. After all, I doubt you'll want to spend more time with your wife than necessary. I'd hate to see a jealous werewolf."

Draco hid his surprise. "You know." His voice was even.

"Yes."

"You don't mind?"

Lucius turned his son around to look at him. Draco's head was lowered and Lucius forced his chin up. "Draco, the only concern I have is that you _have_ to continue the family line. That duty is one I cannot take from you. You are responsible for the continuation of the Malfoy legacy." Lucius sighed at the panic in Draco's eyes. "I would have spared you the Dark Mark, but this is something I would not take from you even if I could. I understand the pressure, but it is a necessity."

Draco sniffled a bit and let a small grin twist his mouth. "Considering I'm standing here, I would say you do."

Lucius returned the grin. "I would also say I was lucky. My marriage may have been arranged, but I truly love Narcissa. I have not had another capture my heart." Lucius turned back to the window. "If the Ministry had not sterilized Lupin, I would suggest you attempt a male pregnancy before finding a witch. Even as rare as they are, and as dangerous, it might have been worth it. You are both exceedingly strong wizards, and with Dumbledore's help it might have been possible. But now you don't have a choice."

"I know." Draco sighed, "It's not like Remus is willing to pursuing anything with me anyway."

Lucius narrowed his eyes. "What do you see in that mongrel?"

Draco let a silly grin come to him. "He listens."

Lucius watched his son's expression and nodded in understanding. "Sometimes that is enough."

The two stood in front of the window for close to an hour without saying a word until a tea tray for two popped into existence on the fireside table. Both moved for the aromatic drink at the same time. Conversation started with Quidditch and moved on from there. For an outsider it would have looked odd. A father and son making small talk like two strangers. But to Draco and Lucius, it was like being blind and suddenly seeing the light.

/ / / /

Remus watched Harry in silence for a few moments. What could he say? All of Harry's fears were justified. But he believed in the boy; he had to. Harry could do this. The boy he knew was nothing like the father. James had been cruel in many ways. Harry, Harry was too much like his mother. Lily was light itself. Remus sighed and drew the green eyes to him. "Harry, you aren't like Voldemort. He takes pleasure in things you never can and never will."

"But that is why I'm here, isn't it? I'm supposed to learn to enjoy blood and death, and…screams." Harry's voice cracked on the last word making Remus cringe. How many screams had the boy already heard, whether in person or through his rather unpredictable link to the Dark Lord?

Remus sighed. "I'm going to give you a piece of advice, something Sirius told me back in our Hogwarts days. He confided that his mother was making him learn Dark hexes and curses over the first summer break. I asked him how he got through it. What he told me was similar to what Malfoy said. You have to separate how you are in the moment from how you are in everyday life. But beyond that, he said he focused on one bad memory exclusively when casting something Dark. That way he always knew what kind of magic he was using. He could self-monitor his emotions. One memory for Light magic, one for dark."

Harry thought for a moment. "What memories did he use, or does he still use them?"

"You'd have to ask him about that, Harry. All I know is that the bad memory had something to do with Severus. I think there's some family history they've never let on about."

Harry was quiet for a moment. "I really wouldn't know how to ask him." Remus stayed silent but raised an eyebrow in question. Harry looked at him and shrugged. "I really don't know how to explain it, Remus. I just don't know Sirius very well at all. He's never actually _talked_ to me."

"Sirius can be hard to get to know." Remus smiled fondly as he remembered the first few weeks sharing a dorm room with the Black family outcast. "He doesn't open up easily and he has quite a temper. It just takes time." He turned to look at the boy. "Besides, I'm sure you know him very well. You just think you don't." The werewolf chuckled. "If you listen to Severus, he'd say there isn't much to know about Sirius."

Harry snorted. "The sad thing is, I know Snape better than I do my godfather." He grew quiet and sighed. "Snape I talk to, well yell to mostly." Remus smiled. "I know you think I shouldn't let it bother me, but I saw what Sirius and Dad did to him. I saw it, Remus. I saw it and I know what that feels like. I've lived it." Harry looked at the floor. "I understand Snape. If the Dursleys were magical and Dudley went to Hogwarts, that could well have been me down by the lake. Piers and the others shouting and laughing in the background." Harry closed his eyes. "I know that pain. It's something I share with Snape, something I don't have with Sirius." Harry looked guiltily at Remus. "Truth be told, if I met James Potter and Sirius Black at that age today, I'd hex them without a second thought. I hate those two boys as much as I hate Voldemort. What does that say about me?"

Harry again closed his eyes. "They destroyed not only Snape's self-esteem, but my image of a perfect father. They shattered my conception of the Marauders as something fun and grand. They soiled the only thing I could call my own. The only things I have of my parents were my fathers. The cloak, the map, and some pictures are all I have other than a memory best forgotten. Now I can't look at my album or use the cloak without thinking about what kinds of mean and heartless things my father used them for." Harry opened his eyes and glared angrily at the carpet. "No, I don't know Sirius well enough to ask him such a question. And if you think back, I don't think his method worked any better than Snape's. They both have deluded themselves into thinking the Dark Arts haven't hurt them, warped them. I'm not sure I want to know Sirius, Remus. I'm not sure I'd like what I would discover."

Remus looked away from his friend's son before he answered. "I should have stopped them back then. I was a Prefect. I should have done something. But I was so scared they'd tell someone what I was. They were the only friends I had, the only people to care about me." Remus blinked rapidly. "There were times I wondered if they didn't stick by me out of a hope of some kind of an adventure. Then Sirius, he did something unforgivable."

"The Shrieking Shack."

Remus nodded. "He's never apologized to me, you know. If Severus had been bitten, it would have meant my death. That was the agreement with Albus. If I hurt anyone, he'd put me down."

Harry took a sharp breath. "Dumbledore said he'd…."

Remus sighed and took Harry's hand without turning to look at him. "It was worth the risk. I wanted to go to school so badly, Harry. I hated my house. I hated my parents. I was the freak, the thing to be hidden. I needed to be out." He slowly looked at the child next to him. "I think you can understand that. What would you have done?"

"I would have shook the damn man's hand and said you have a deal, just get me the hell out of that house." Harry squeezed the werewolf's hand. "Now I've even come to know you better than Sirius as well."

Remus chuckled. And Harry returned the sound with a shaky, stressed laugh. "Well, at least one of the Marauders doesn't seem to be on your _To Hex on Sight_ list."

"I don't want to hex Sirius. I want to curse the younger him into the next century. There is a difference." He let go of the older wizard's hand. "Azkaban was enough of a punishment." Remus nodded in agreement. "Have you always felt so alone?" Harry asked in a small voice.

Remus sighed. "Alone? I'm not sure what it's like not to be, Harry. Even when I was with Peter, James, and Sirius I was not part of the group. I was sort of, there. I was a charity case. So was Peter, really. Of all three, I was actually closest with him."

Harry shivered. "You and Wormtail were good friends?"

Remus smiled. "Peter wasn't loud like Sirius or James. He was just happy if you let him sit with you. He never really wanted to talk; he just didn't like being alone. So he'd go to the library with me or sit with me in the infirmary when…well when I was sick." Harry didn't need to ask from what. "Peter didn't like quidditch, neither did I really. So we'd ditch the games and study. He was very much into Herbology." Remus gave a slight frown. "Actually, he reminds me of Neville in a lot of ways."

Harry shook his head. "What happened to him?"

Remus gave a non-committal noise. "What happened to any of us?" He tiredly brushed a hand over his head and rubbed his neck. "He grew up, grew old, grew cynical. I'm not sure what else. To many years of not being noticed, of not being special. James was the quidditch star. Sirius was the lady's man and the gallant turncoat from the Snakes. I was the delicate were-creature that needed to be protected. But what was he?"

"So he made himself special." Harry scowled. "He made sure everyone would know who he was."

Remus nodded. "Something in his eyes that night in your third year told me he never thought to live through it all. I think he had planned on Sirius killing him that night in '81. But at the last second he couldn't let it happen. Shear panic was the only thing that could have caused him to do a spell as powerful as what destroyed that street."

Harry looked skeptical and Remus patted his shoulder. "Never mind, Harry. Something's just don't have an explanation. It's a painful life lesson." He smiled warmly and then made a deliberate subject change. "But back to this Snape issue. Why do you think you can talk to Severus and not Sirius?"

Harry lost the slight grin he'd developed. He took his glasses off and wiped the lenses on the helm of his robes. "Snape can't think any less of me than he already does. I…I don't want to let Sirius down. I'm so afraid he'll be disappointed or…I know I'm not making much sense. Here I'm telling you I'm not sure I can forgive Sirius for something he did as a child, and then complaining about him not being proud of me if he knew the real me."

Remus reached out and took Harry into a hug. Harry stiffened for a moment before he relaxed into the awkward moment. Neither was used to such contact. "What will happen, Remus? What will everyone think when they learn how much of a freak I really am? It's not just Sirius I worry about, or the Weasleys. There is so much people don't know about me, about how I feel and think and…and…there is just so much. I can't let them down, Remus. They need the Boy-Who-Lived, not just Harry."

"Who?" Remus asked as Harry pulled away from him.

"EVERYONE! Don't you see it? I'm not allowed to be less than perfect. I'm a bloody symbol! I'm a rallying point and a distraction. I actually studied it. The more bad things for the Prophet to potentially print, the more stupid and inane Harry Potter stories show up instead. They use me to balance out death. What will they do with the next story? They'll have no mushy 'Harry cries over mother's memory' story to balance out the 'Cake-Boy-Who-Lived' headline." Harry jammed the glasses back onto his nose. "Most people don't really believe I'm nuts or 'Dark'. They can see another side, even in Skeeters work. They see it because they have to, to keep on going. But there isn't another side to this. I'm gay. I'm never going to get married or have children. I'm dooming the Potter line to extension as well as Godric Gryffindor's legacy. They'll hate me for it. They can excuse me having a crappy childhood. They can forgive me a broom accident or two. This, this is inexcusable."

Remus again didn't know what to say. He knew what it felt like to be considered a freak. But he'd never had to be worried about having his lycanthropy spread around the entire wizarding world. It had hurt enough when Severus had just told Hogwarts. He couldn't imagine what it must feel like to have the whole world know you were abused at home, that your parent's died to save you, that you could speak a strange language, and that you were not interested in girls. Harry had enough mental abuse from the Dursleys. He didn't need the public backlash for living an alternative lifestyle. And the part about never having a family stuck Remus. He'd never let himself dream of having a family. At first because of his condition, than later because of his preferences. But secretly, he knew now, he'd always wanted one. It might be a bit late, but he had Hermione. He had a daughter. What would Harry ever have? And did he want it or was he simply stating the obvious?" "Do you want a family?" He asked quietly. He had moved to stand in front of the window and he kept his eyes on the deer contentedly eating a fallen apple instead of risking Harry seeing the moisture collecting in his amber eyes.

Harry ran his hand through his hair and stood to go stand beside Remus at the window. "More than anything. It's all I've really ever wanted." Harry touched the glass and let his eyes see past the garden and into another place and time. "I use to sit in my cupboard and dream. I thought about how wonderful my parent's must have been and I'd think about life if they were still alive. I thought they'd both be wonderful and that I'd make them proud of me. Then I'd remember.

"But my favorite times would be when I would think about what I would do when I was older. I knew I'd have a wife and a whole slew of kids. My house would rival the Burrow for all the activity and bustle. We'd live in this little cottage, too little for all of us, really. But we'd love it there anyway. Right by the sea with a garden and a small meadow. I'd work for Social Services helping with orphans, like I had been. My wife, she'd be a solicitor or something and have really long hours. 'Cause I wouldn't make much money and I would only work part time so I could watch the kids. I wanted at least five, three girls and two boys. I was going to name one James and the other was going to be Timothy. The girls were going to be Rose, Daisy, and Jasmine." Remus gave him an odd look and Harry explained.

"Aunt Petunia said it was a family tradition to name girls after flowers. She was telling Dudley how much she hated her name. From then on I vowed to make sure I'd name any daughters of mine after flowers." Harry gave a small smirk. "I also swore I'd never let my kids near that damn family. But my wife's parents, I always imagined she'd have the most wonderful parents. They'd think of me like a son and they'd come over and play with the children every weekend." Harry paused. "I still want that, Remus. I want that little house and those kids. Only, I don't want the wife anymore." He gave a small smile. "It's a little hard to get the kids without her, though."

Remus put his arm around Harry, never taking his eyes off the deer. "You never know. The wizarding world is full of surprises. It may be possible for you to have a child someday. It's been known to happen. Male pregnancies are dangerous and extremely rare…but you have a way of attracting rare phenomena."

"I hope so, Remus. I hope so."

They stayed like that, by the window with Remus' arm on Harry's shoulder until the tea tray arrived. They sat and starred at their cups, neither eating or saying a word. When the tray popped away it was time for the practical lesson. Remus stood and silently held the door open for Harry. His eyes looked sad, but determined. Harry motioned for him to go ahead. He grabbed his wand and started for the door. He stopped with his hand on the knob to pull it closed and looked back through the far window at the still content deer.

"I hope you can hear me, Mom, Dad. I'm sorry." He muttered the spell to extinguish the lights and then closed the door. "I'm so sorry I must be a disappointment to you." Harry closed his eyes and silently steeled himself. He walked forward and joined Remus just as they reached the hallway. It was time.

/ / / /

Draco and Lucius walked out into the hallway and met Remus and Harry just coming out of the boy's suite. The subdued air surrounding both groups made the already tense moment escalate. The conversations during tea still weighed heavily on everyone's minds.

Lucius looked at the Boy-Who-Lived as the group stood awkwardly waiting for instruction. The green eyes practically radiated depression and apprehension. His son's were not much better. Lucius did not want to do this, but if do it he must, it would be done well. Even if it meant he would not be sleeping again, ever. Lucius tiredly pulled his wand and muttered a single spell in what sounded like medieval French. A long low door opened in the wall between his rooms and the empty 'Lady's' quarters next door. It would be best if they took this elsewhere. He just hoped the werewolf would play along.

"I've decided to move the practical lessons below. Follow me." He shifted his robes in a half-hearted billow and disappeared into the darkened doorway after giving Remus a pointed look.

Draco looked shocked at both the appearance of the door and the disappearance of his father. "I didn't know there was a passage there." He mumbled, glaring at the new doorway.

"The spell Lucius used would open a portal anywhere in the mansion." Remus answered and started forward taking his hint from Lucius perfectly. "It's an ancient security measure common to old wizarding homes of wealth. If the castle was attacked by a rival magic group, the Lord could escape to the more protected lower dungeon areas, accessible only by magic, without a moments notice." Remus stepped into the void and he disappeared through the door without warning.

Harry blinked and tried to find him without getting closer to the dark opening.

"Why hasn't' he taught me the codes?" Draco whined, still staring at the black filed passage. He made no comment about Remus' disappearing but he to stayed a healthy distance away.

"Maybe because you haven't had a reason to enter this section of the house before. Now hurry up. It takes a considerable amount of energy to keep the gateway open." Lucius' voice snarled out from the pitch-blackness.

Harry looked at the 'door' with apprehension. Dark passages were not his favorite. He finally skewed up his last ounce of Gryffindorness and stepped through. Draco started forward at the exact same time. Their shoulders caught in the door and they shoved each other for a moment until Draco pushed Harry through.

It was cold. Harry couldn't believe how cold the passage felt. The air was utterly still, but the stone, or at least what he assumed was stone, he couldn't tell in the complete darkness, radiated waves of frigidness. Harry could feel Draco's warmth behind him, but he felt no sign of Remus or Malfoy Sr.

"_Lumos_."

Harry's wand lit up a patch of the passage about ten square feet. He looked around and wished he hadn't done the light spell. The passage wasn't made of limestone as he had assumed. Instead, it appeared to be made of magically fused bone. The doorway they had come through was formed by human skulls stacked and held together with wedged-in arm bones. It looked exactly like the photos he'd seen of the tunnels under Paris. Harry shivered and turned to look at the blond behind him. Draco was staring at the skulls and desperately trying not to show his surprise. His face was blank, but his pupils were wide and the gray of his eyes seemed to burn.

"I think I see why father's never wanted me in the dungeons." Draco muttered and drew his own wand to better see the strange construction methods up close.

Harry brought his wand closer to the wall as well and tried to figure out how the passage was made. The walls were smooth to his touch, yet they appeared to be piled femurs, ribs, and hips with a pelvis or two every few feet. The skulls appeared to be reserved for the doorways that littered the long hall. "I don't think this goes to the dungeons, Draco. The passages down to the cells would have to be accessible to more than just the Lord. And besides, if this was meant to be a secret escape route, you wouldn't want to lead prisoners down it."

"You might be right. There is a warded entrance in the ballroom that goes to the cells. That's how I got down to see father and Severus and didn't see any of this." He waved his arms to encompass the smooth bone walls. "I know there are other passages that go below as well. But I don't know the codes to get them open. Father's never wanted me to explore the darker side of the mansion before." Draco's voice was a bit shaky as he slowly reached out to touch one of the eyeless skulls and quickly drew his hand back before making contact. "But if this doesn't go to the dungeons, where does it go? And where are Remus and father?"

Harry frowned. "I'd assume they're testing us."

"Then how do we pass?" Draco finally ran a hand over the skull and shuddered.

Harry ignored him and scanned the floor. "There are footprints in the dust. They lead down the hall and into that off branch on the left."

"Well, let's go then!" Draco hurried toward the side passage but a tug on his robes stopped him.

"Wait. I have a bad feeling about this."

Draco looked at Harry as if he'd just grown a third head. "We need to find them. They went down there, now come on." Draco tried to pull loose but Harry held on and shook his head.

"It's too easy. There are numerous charms to hide footprints. Remus would know them from going out with my father's cloak when he was still in school. It's become second nature to Hermione, Ron, and I. Even without the cloak we cast the charms whenever there's something to leave footprints in. We don't even think about it anymore. There is no way an experienced prankster and a Death Eater would leave such an obvious trial. It's a trap."

"Assuming this is a test." Draco crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes.

"Believe me, ferret boy. I've been through enough of this shite before to know." Harry bit out angrily then softened his look at the cringe Draco made at the name. "Sorry. I'm just tired of the dark passages and creepy tests that keep finding their way into my life. Now keep alert and make sure your wand is ready."

Draco glared but raised his wand in readiness anyway. He resented Harry taking the lead, but the Gryffindor had been tri-wizard champion for a reason, loath as Draco was to admit it.

Harry slowly started down the hallway and went past the foot-printed corridor. He paused at the next side branch thirty feet further down. The dust was perfectly undisturbed in the passage. Too perfectly. He silently nodded down the hall. Draco bent and looked at the floor closely. He gave a sly smirk and nodded in agreement. Harry held his wand high to cast the light further ahead and started down the corridor. It was so quiet his ears were buzzing. He smiled as Draco cast a charm to hide their own footprints. The blond was exactly two paces behind him, and one step to the left, with his wand at the perfect level to cast. If he didn't know better, he'd think the boy'd been in on their DA group back in fifth year.

Just as they reached a turn in the passage a slippery tentacle like appendage stretched out of one of the pelvis bones and silently grabbed Draco from behind. The blond tried to scream, but the slimy gray _thing_ covered his mouth. He settled for kicking loudly at the floor in desperation.

Harry turned and in one smooth move sent an Impediment hex at the wall. The tentacles slowed giving him time to think. A simple severing charm had the Malfoy heir free and gasping for air. Harry shoved the boy behind him and looked around for any more of the odd creatures. The one he had cut was thrashing harmlessly around throwing off gray gunk. The Boy-Who-Lived quickly dismissed it as a threat and keep scanning the hallway while Draco wheezed in an exaggerated manner behind him.

When no more of the beasts showed themselves, Harry relaxed slightly and turned to survey the hyperventilating show-off behind him. Draco was desperately attempting to rub the slime of his face. Seeing Harry's robes dangling in front of him, the blond seized the cloth and started franticly smearing the sickening mucus off. The Boy-Who-Lived was not amused. He glared at the now sludge stained cloth and Draco smirked slightly sheepishly. Harry rolled his eyes. Only a Malfoy. He was about to ask if the boy was all right, beyond the damage to his wardrobe and hairstyle, when a blast of light hit them both, hard.

It felt heavenly. Harry smiled and sat down just like it said to. A quiet voice told him he was a good boy and he beamed. But another voice screamed at him to get up. With a wave of sudden clarity, the warm happy feeling was pushed back and Harry realized the importance of fighting the light, the voice, the _spell_. He gasped and _**pushed**_ at the Imperius with all his might. The spell tried to keep its grip and demanded he remain still and sitting like the caster wanted. Harry gritted his teeth and slowly moved up onto his knees and then to his feet.

"Draco…" He gasped. The other boy was grinning and sitting next to the wall heedless to the new tentacle that was winding towards him. "Draco, fight it!" Harry bit out and was almost slapped down to the floor again as his concentration wavered at the effort of speaking. A confused look passed over the blonde's gray eyes. "Fight it; it's the Imperius. Stand up!"

Harry watched Draco tremble and start to get up then his eyes went back to their previous blankness and the boy sunk back to the ground. Harry gasped again as he fought the newest eave of desire to follow the sweet voice. He shakingly raised his wand and sent a weak fire spell at the tentacle that was now gently stroking his companion's leg. The sudden heat broke through Draco's stupor and he blinked. "Harry?"

Harry sunk down to his knees before he caught himself. He raised his eyes and saw a glitter in the darkness; the clasp of Lucius Malfoy's robes reflected light from the still burning tentacle. The older wizard's eyes held the two of them in plain sight. His black wand was raised and quivering with effort. Harry concentrated all his might. "_Expelliaumus."_

Lucius propelled backwards. Suddenly, Draco was free and he snapped to his feet. But Harry could still hear the voice. And it was getting louder and harder to ignore. The warm fuzzy feeling was taking over. He sunk forward, holding himself up by one arm alone. His knees would no longer obey him.

Draco grabbed his other arm and yanked him to his feet. The gray eyes searched the darkness until they caught the gleam of another cloak clasp off to the left of the temporary fallen Death Eater. "_Petrificus Totalus_." With a thump Remus hit the ground.

Harry shrugged off the residual effects of the curse and quickly cast a binding spell on Lucius as the man raised his wand. The ropes sprang out but missed their target. Remus was back on his feet a moment later, having fought off Draco's spell. Soon curses were flying. After a good half-hour, all four were sweaty, bloody, and more than a little tired. Finally, Harry had had enough. In a flash of black light he cast _Serpensortia_ four times in rapid succession. In doing so, he had no time to deflect or avoid the curses thrown at him. He was hit by a strong Cruciatus just as his wand ended the fourth curse. As he went down screaming, he saw of all people, Remus Lupin holding his wand at the tell tale level for the painful spell.

Harry hit the ground and his head cracked on the bone floor. He lost consciousness just as the spell abruptly ended. When he came to Draco was smirking down at him.

"Good job, Potter." He extended his hand to help his school mate up.

Harry groaned and took the proffered arm. "Call me Harry, remember?"

"Right. As long as you drop the rodent comments." Draco smirked and dusted off his robes. Harry looked around and saw a glaring bundle of Lucius/Remus wrapped in what looked amazingly like Muggle duct tape. Their wands were taped to the wall opposite them as though dangling a steak in front of a starving dog.

"What happened?" Harry asked and rubbed the back of his head, surprised by the lack of blood. The large bump wasn't good though.

"Those snakes you cast caught them off guard and I was able to knock them out."

Harry looked at the blond and gave a weak smile. "Guess we could call this team work. Next time I organize a rescue party I'll consider you for recruitment."

Draco chuckled, "Yeah, well, as long as I'm not the one you're trying to rescue I'll consider it. Should we untie them and see if we got a passing grade?"

Seeing the expression on the two wizards' faces, around the gray tape like gag, Harry made the wise decision to secure the wands better before hand. He pocketed them swiftly and turned back to Draco, keeping a wide berth around the bond captives.

"How long was I out? And why did you tie them up like that?"

"About an hour. And I couldn't resist the opportunity. I doubt it will ever arise again." Draco looked both unrepentant and sheepish. Harry smiled. Once again, only Malfoy.

Draco waved his wand to untie the older wizards. Remus sprang to his feet and locked eyes with Draco. Lucius slowly stood and gave Harry a curious once over.

"Draco," Remus spoke with a slight amount of amusement tinting his voice, only slight. "I'm impressed with your ability. But was that particular binding spell necessary?"

Lucius tore his eyes off the Boy-Who-Lived and answered for his son. "Necessary, no. Creative, yes." Lucius smoothed his robes and started down the corridor. "Now that I have an idea of both of your abilities, we should carry on with the lesson." He swept off around the corner, his heels clicking impatiently on the bone floor. Suddenly, his wand ripped through Harry's pocket and sailed after its owner without a single word or hand movement.

Draco followed his father, once again trying to match his effortless glide. Remus retrieved his wand in a rather less impressive manner, he asked for it. He then waited for Harry to start forward. The boy hesitated and didn't follow the two blondes right away. He stood still instead and stretched his soar muscles. He grimaced as his shoulders cracked.

"Explain to me why you chose the Cruciatus, please." Harry suddenly looked up. "And how? _You_ never mention being Dark Arts trained. What method did you use?"

"I would have to be trained, Harry. Besides, everyone who goes through Auror training or advanced DADA mastership must study the Dark Arts."

Harry looked curious. "So, what method do you use to control it?"

Remus shrugged and gave a nervous smile. "None. I'm a werewolf. The wolf is naturally a Dark creature. I just let the wolf out a bit." Remus went around behind Harry and started to rub his shoulders. "I'm sorry I cast that. In truth, I panicked when I saw the snakes. The wolf just threw out the first thing that came to mind without thinking. Fight or flight. It chose fight."

Harry almost moaned as the professor worked out a particularly painful kink. "I'll forgive you as long as you don't stop. Ever."

Remus chuckled. "You're being rather forgiving. Most people hit with that curse would be fuming and threatening me with death."

"I don't have enough energy to be angry. Give me an hour. And besides, I think I've gotten used to the pain a bit. Or at least, used to the aftermath." Harry mumbled.

Remus frowned at that but made no comment. It sounded too much like his transformation and he was just glad the boy was stilling willing to talk to him. He really hadn't meant to cast that particular curse. For Remus, the split personality required of the Dark Arts was natural and quite a bit more advanced than was entirely healthy. The wolf was separate and feral. He was just glad he hadn't done any lasting damage to the boy. "We'd better get moving." Remus patted Harry's shoulder and started down the corridor. There would be time for self-flagellation later. Harry sighed but followed.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Remus asked again.

"Yes, Remus. It's not the first time I've been under that curse. I'm getting better at handling it." Remus looked at him curiously. Harry grinned. "I only screamed for the first second this time. Of course, the floor impacting with my head helped that…."

Remus' eyes grew large. "Harry…" Whatever he would have said was cut off by their arrival at their destination as they rounded another corner. Lucius was waiting rather impatiently in a large room made of, thank Merlin, limestone.

"Now that you are _finally_ here, we'll get started." Lucius pulled a black cloth off a long low table to reveal two cages; each containing a small bunny rabbit. "Cast the Killing Curse." He ordered in a cold, hard voice.

Both boys jumped. "They're bunnies!" They spoke at the same time.

Lucius smirked. "I see you're at least getting a rudimentary education. And don't let them fool you, rabbits can be vicious. Now cast." He brushed a strand of dust out of his hair. "I'm sure you both know the words." He eyed Harry.

Harry and Draco looked at each other. Draco shakily raised his wand. "_Avada Kedavra_." A slight green glow showed itself at the tip of his wand, but nothing more. Harry also tried. He managed only to get a slightly brighter yellow light.

"Hum. Once more with feeling."

Both tried again with little difference.

"This will take a bit of work." Lucius moved around the table and Remus found a seat on the floor in the far corner. "Now, can you tell me why your spells didn't work?" Lucius asked as he circled the boys slowly.

Draco answered his father quickly, "We didn't want them to work." He stiffened as the wizard moved behind him.

"Correct." Lucius reached the table again and leaned against it startling the rabbits and causing them to scamper to the back of their cages. Draco beamed at the hint of praise from his father. "But also lacking." His smile faltered. "Remus, care to elaborate or are you to busy lounging?"

From his position on the floor, Remus adjusted his glasses and answered without rising to the bait. "You need to have not only a desire to kill, but a _strong _desire to do so."

Harry looked slightly confused and Remus clarified. "The Curse isn't exactly Dark like Obliviate or Cruciatus, but it does require strong emotions in either direction to fuel it."

"But how can you be extremely happy to kill a _bunny_?" Harry threw his hand up in the air as he asked.

Lucius stood up straight. "That's the dilemma, and thus why you are here. While spells are, for the most part, neither Light nor Dark, it can be almost impossible to caste some using Light emotions and other Dark. That is why the Ministry of Magic can get away with their categorization of magics." Lucius narrowed his eyes. "We do not need to go over this again do we?"

"No, sir." The boys chorused.

"Good." Lucius started to circle again. "Now, I want you to try again. This time, focus on whatever emotions you want to so long as they are powerful." He paused behind Draco. "I've often found fear to be effective and not nearly as damaging as anger or hatred. And it's much easier to summon than so called, 'positive' emotions. After all, Our Lord's possible displeasure is quite a constant threat, and a large motivator for high performance." He moved behind Harry. "You may try something else," he sneered, "Love and happiness will work if you can manage them."

"Aren't you forgetting to tell them something?" Remus asked quietly. Lucius swiveled and glared at him. Remus ignored the look as he stood up. "This particular curse takes a large amount of your personal energy store. Many fully aged wizards can't manage it. Just like the Patronus, it isn't simply about wand movements or words. Not even emotions. You have to be innately powerful as well."

Lucius nodded begrudgingly. "That is why it is actually used very rarely, even by Death Eaters." He went back to leaning on the table. "For this reason primarily, Lord Voldemort is feared. In His early reign it was common for Him to cast up to ten Killing Curses at once. A lone survivor was always left to spread the news. Most of us joined Him because of the rumors of His powers."

"That's brilliant." Harry spoke without thinking. His voice conveyed slight awe and made the others take a step back. At the sharp inhale from Draco, Harry clarified. "Evil, but a great strategy."

Lucius nodded. "Yes it is. I'm surprised you saw that." He turned to his son, "and that Draco did not. It's unusual to find a Gryffindor who can comprehend the elegance of such machinations."

Harry got a funny look on his face and shifted his eyes to the floor. "Uhm…"

Draco looked at him startled. "Don't tell me."

Harry's glare shot up angrily. "Look, its not my fault that hat has issues. Dumbledore should let it out more. Isolation's driven it mad."

"What are you two on about now?" Remus asked moving to stand between the boys just incase they decided to try out any newly learned curses on one another.

"Tell him, _Harry_. I'm sure he'd _love_ to know this." Draco vocally sneered but quirked his mouth in a good-natured smile.

Harry sighed. "It's not funny."

"Oh yes it is."

"Would someone let me in on this?" Remus swiveled his gaze from boy to boy in confusion.

Lucius looked just as confused. "Us in, Lupin. I have no clue either."

"The Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin." Harry glared at Draco. "What _I_ want to know is why Draco seemed to know that."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Everyone was _almost_ something. By your reaction I assumed you'd almost ended up with the bed next to mine." By the suggestive raise of his eyebrow, Draco found the thought more than a little entertaining.

Harry mimicked Draco's eye roll. "Only in your dreams, Malfoy. And you weren't almost anything. That damn hat screamed Slytherin in less than half a second."

"Time, for the person under the hat, doesn't move normally. A second for those watching can seem like a minute or longer for the one being sorted." Remus spoke up quietly before Draco could make a retort. "So, you're Gryffindor/Slytherin. Odd combination." He smiled slightly and shrugged offhandedly. "I was actually Gryffindor/Hufflepuff which really isn't that much better. I guess all the combinations seem a little odd when you get right down to it."

All eyes turned to Draco waiting for his confession. The boy locked eyes with his father and waited till he had a nod before speaking. "Slytherin/Gryffindor." Harry's laughter was immediate and quite loud.

"Shut-up." Draco tried to look angry, but his own amusement at his fathers exaggerated disappointment over road. "So, father, if you find my sorting so displeasing, what was yours?"

Lucius sneered. "Do you honestly think the hat even bothered to form a second house choice for me?"

Harry slowly looked him over from toe to head. He and Remus grinned and spoke at the same time. "Ravenclaw."

Lucius' sneer deepened but he made no comment. The sudden stiffness of his shoulders proved them right however. In an attempt to deflect attention, Lucius quickly turned back to the table.

"Well Potter, despite the fact that your stupidity has just been confirmed by your choosing Gryffindor over Slytherin," Harry rolled his eyes, "I have," Lucius sneered even harder, "_orders_ to teach you."

Lucius again moved behind the two boys. "Part of your failure, Potter, was in your stance." He reached out and placed Harry's wand arm higher. "Assuming you are using an unpleasant memory or emotion to cast, you must match the movements to the mood."

Draco raised his wand to the same level.

"Now, when you cast the curse use a harsher stabbing motion instead of a 'swish and flick'. We're not trying to levitate the infernal things." Lucius muttered. "Also, your inflection should reflect your intention. If you speak cheerily, and use delicate movements, the spells effects will reflect it just as it will your inner emotions. It takes a lot of training to cast without emotional display or with a different outer appearance from your inner feelings. It would be asking far too much of you to expect it at this stage. So for now, cast like you feel. It will be obvious you're using Dark Magic to anyone knowledgeable. But even most Aurors don't know the real truth of magical theory so you should be all right so long as the spell is legal. It took me close to a decade to master separate casting. It's harder than wandless magic or even Animagus transformations."

Lucius stepped back. "Now I want you to focus on one memory specifically. Make sure it invokes strong emotions. Anger can and will fuel the curse, or you can try one of the lesser Dark emotions, such as fear." Lucius made eye contact with his son. "As I said before, you can try casting with happy memories, but I doubt they will work in this situation. For your own sake, try fear before anger. It's most likely what you'd be feeling if you needed to cast Avada anyway." He reminded them. "Now try again."

Both raised their wands back up to the higher level. In a shaky voice Draco brought his wand down in a harsh forward swoop. "_Avada Kedavra_." For a moment the room was silent. The rabbit on the left twitched a bit then went still.

Harry didn't look at Draco. He drew a deep breath, closed his eyes for a long moment, and pictured his memory. He fired his own curse at the still living rabbit on the right. The small creature went on happily munching its lettuce. Harry waited for a nasty comment from Draco. When none came he turned to look at his fellow year-mate.

The young Malfoy was completely pale and shaking. Remus noticed his swaying at the same time as Lucius. They both moved forward and awkwardly caught the boy as he passed out. Harry starred wide-eyed.

"I told them it took a lot of energy." Remus muttered and lowered the blond to the floor. Once he was sure his son was fine, if unconscious, Lucius stood back up.

"Again Potter."

Harry opened his mouth to protest but thought better of it. Instead he eyed the rabbit. It was – cute. Big floppy ears, pink little nose, fluffy fur. Harry narrowed his eyes. He had to stop think about it as an innocent, cute, little mammal. He cocked his head to the side. Small mammal. What else was small and furry? He crinkled his brow. Then it hit him. Rats were small and furry. Rats, namely Pettigrew, he could kill. Concentrating on the image of Pettigrew slicing into his arm, Harry recast. A bright flash of green filled the room. The rabbit was dead, the lettuce still in its mouth. It never even twitched a whisker.

"Good." Lucius stated without emotion. Remus was a bit pale as he stood up from Draco's side. "That was clean. Normally it takes at least a year of practice to kill without delay. The level of light indicates the strength of the spell. Yours was as strong, if not stronger, than mine or Severus'. Perhaps even in line with the Dark Lord." Lucius paused. "I see why He believes you are a threat."

Harry merely nodded and stared at the cage. Suddenly, he covered his mouth and ran to the corner. Remus came up behind him and rubbed his back as he lost all of his lunch and tea all over the stone floor. Lucius purposefully ignored the display. Instead he waved his wand and cleaned up the vomit, cages, and then dissolved the table. He let Remus help Harry out into the bone corridor as he picked up his son. Instead of traveling back the long passage, Lucius opened a doorway straight into his study. He laid his son down on the long reading bench in the back of the room and let Potter take the still present chair Lupin had conjured earlier in the day.

Remus sat down in one of the harder chairs and silently held Harry's hand as he continued to shake. Lucius went to his desk drawer and pulled out two potion bottles bearing Severus' personal mark. The first, a mild calming drought, he gave to the werewolf who administered it to Harry. The second he carried over to his son. Lucius enervated the boy and quickly poured the pepper-up potion down his throat. Draco sputtered for a moment then gave a weak smile to his father. Lucius returned the slight upturn of lip and went to sit down in the other chair next to Remus. He stilled his own desire to shiver as he watched the Potter boy slowly stop shacking. He remembered the first time he'd cast the Killing Curse…he closed his eyes in remembered pain.

Eventually, Harry stilled completely and moved away from Remus' touch. He looked up and caught Lucius' eye. "How did I manage to do that? I can't be that powerful. In the past Draco and I have been rather evenly matched, and he passed out."

Lucius nodded and turned to Draco. "What memory did you use?"

Draco blushed and mumbled, "Moody turning me into a ferret." He cringed waiting for laughter. Harry didn't have the heart. Seeing the frightened glint in the other boy's eyes made him regret ever finding the incident funny. Seeing into Snape's Pensieve the year before had made him realize how easy it would be to become what he hated. He'd never do to another person what Dudley had done to him. Laughing at Draco's frightened bouncing furry form was close enough to some of the pranks he'd endured as a child to make him uncomfortable in retrospect. The image of Snape hanging upside down by the lake and Draco bouncing around the castle weren't funny.

Lucius' eyes softened at his son. "A fear related memory." He seemed glad. "You Potter?" He asked as he gently touched his son's shoulder.

"Harry please sir." Harry said quietly. Lucius gave him an odd look. "I feel like I'm in Potions class when you call me that. I've always preferred my first name. Harry, just Harry."

"Fine. Harry it is then. What memory did you use?"

The Boy-Who-Lived squared his shoulders. "The graveyard two years ago when Pettigrew took my blood to resurrect Voldemort."

The others shivered. "That would explain it then. Draco, your memory, while traumatic, was not life threatening. It involved mostly fear and humiliation. Pot…Harry's memory was of a highly deadly situation and involved anger as well as fear, I would expect."

Harry shook his head. "Fear yes, I was too busy being scared stiff to be angry at the time. I associate that memory more with betrayal than anything." He hesitated, "Which is close to anger, I guess." Remus tried to question but Harry continued on before he could ask. "Not only did that rat betray my parents, but I saved his life! The bastard owes me a life-debt and he ties me to a gravestone and slices my arm." Harry growled. "He failed to uphold his half of a very old form of bond." His green eyes flashed. There was anger there whether Harry wanted to admit it or not.

Lucius nodded. "Wormtail grows weaker everyday from breaking the wizard's life-debt he has with you. He has another year at most to pay for his failure before he permanently loses his magic. A broken wizards bond will turn him into a Squib if he does nothing." Lucius sighed. "Betrayal, anger, and hate are the three main emotions that can turn a spell Dark. You used all three of them. That is why your spell worked better than Draco's."

"Sort of like the Patronus." The blond boy stated.

Remus nodded. "Yes. The more powerful the positive memory and the more 'Light' the emotions it evokes, the stronger the apparition. Of course, the Patronus Charm is the only pure Light spell, and theoretically Avada can be both, but the strength principle is the same regardless of classification."

Both boys nodded and then fell silent again. Harry ran a shaky hand through his hair standing it up on end. He wondered if this was what it felt like to go hunting. But then he doubted you had to relive your most frightening moments when stalking a deer.

Draco was once again the first to break the silence. "So is fear just as powerful as anger? And why did you suggest we use it if it is Dark too?"

Lucius sighed and spoke with a sad tinge to his voice. "As powerful yes, but not as Dark. It will cast the Killing Curse just as well, but you won't be able to use it to cast the Cruciatus without adding in a bit of anger, jealousy, or hate. It is one of the three most potentially Dark emotions because it lends itself to turning to one of the others without you noticing." He gave a pointed look to Harry. Lucius shifted in his seat to better face the boy. "Fear is quick to come and quick to leave. Hate, anger, betrayal, and the other Dark emotions are harder to be rid of. Most of the time, they haven't a true basis in reality either. Unless you have a mental illness, fear is something that is based on a real thing. You can manipulate fear within yourself easier than hate or jealousy. Those eat at you. So does fear, but it can't hide like the others. They can masquerade as many different things. But fear is always just that, fear." Remus shook his head as if he disagreed, but remained silent.

Lucius glanced at the large clock above the mantle. "Dinner is only about a half-hour away. I would suggest we all retire and find a fresh change of cloths and wash up. The hidden passages are filthy." He looked at the slime-covered boys and sneered. "I highly suggest you take care with your bathing. You both need it." He stood up and walked towards the door. "Any more questions?" He asked over his shoulder.

Harry stood and shook his head no, even though Malfoy couldn't see him. The others stood as well and they started for their rooms. Harry gave a soft smile. He was finally seeing a light at the end of the Dark Arts tunnel. Lucius had said he could cast with fear. He could be creative with his memories and his emotions. He could avoid using hate and anger if he tried hard enough. After all, he did today. The Dark Arts didn't have to destroy you, if you were patient. Ten years in a cupboard had taught him patience and emotional control. For the most part, he didn't count Aunt Marge. She could drive a Saint to murder. He was sure being fearful wouldn't be a whole lot of fun, but Lord Malfoy was right. Even when he was so angry at Lestrange in the Ministry, he was still scared, really scared. In fact, when he thought about it, he was always scared. Mostly of himself these days, but fear was fear.

He really wasn't scared of people. Dudley and Vernon didn't frighten him. He was more afraid of the pain than them. And of what he might do to them if he let go. Snape wasn't as frightening as he was infuriating. But the loss of house points and the response of his dorm mates could be scary. Then there was always Voldemort.

Harry gave a low chuckle as he entered his room. Remus had said, in third year, that Harry only feared fear. That wasn't true. Harry pulled off his plain black robes and walked into the bath. He feared the Dementors because of the memories. He turned the shower on and stood under the warm spray. Of course, now he had more memories to fear. And thus more ammunition for his spell casting.

He closed his eyes and rested his head on the tiled wall. Behind his eyelids flashes of green and screams hit him like physical blows. The glazed eyes of Cedric Diggory ran by. The expression on Sirius' face as he fell through the veil stabbed at him. The lifeless body of the bunny ran like a muggle scrolling message at the bottom of it all. No, fear Harry didn't care about. There were bigger things to be worried about. Fear was his childhood blanket, just like hunger, darkness, and spiders. The guilt, the memories, the _pain_ were things he wanted to avoid, not the fear. Fear proved he was still alive.

He slowly picked up the soap and went about methodically scrubbing every inch of skin. The slime was reluctant to leave him. He mentally ruffled through his memories, the ones he could bare facing. He had enough. If he was, what did Lucius say? Creative? If he was _creative_ with his memories he could cast without hate or anger. At least, without them being at the forefront. And when the battle finally came, well killing Voldemort might be worth feeling hate. And anger. And every other emotion he could think of.

He shut off the water and stepped carefully out of the porcelain tub. He roughly toweled off and quickly got dressed. Creative. He could do creative.

/ / / /

Shrimp. Harry starred at his plate. Shrimp. How could that pink thing have been an animal? He poked it with his fork. The 'tail' part was just wrong. Of course, the sight of two Malfoys actually lowering themselves to eating with their fingers was amusing. And Remus didn't seem to mind it…Harry poked it again and cocked his head to the side.

"Harry, you eat it. It's not art." Draco sneered and dipped one of the pink oddities into the butter sauce. Somehow, the blond made his first name sound like 'Potter' did when Snape was in a _**really**_ bad Neville induced mood.

Harry hesitantly picked up the shrimp. Copying the others, he dipped it and then took a bite down to the hard flipper like part. Then he waited. Hum. He tried another one. Okay, it was edible. Maybe. It still tasted funny.

Lucius watched the boy. It was obvious at meals, painfully obvious, that the child had never participated in society of any kind. How could you reach nearly seventeen years of age and not have eaten shrimp? Or rice pilaf by the way the boy was carefully investigating each grain. Lunch had been a bit better. The potato soup had at least not been subject to the Spanish Inquisition the shrimp was receiving before ingestion.

The silence was staggering. With the exception of a few quips from Draco towards Harry's poking of the food, no one talked. Unlike lunch, the lack of conversation was causing tension. Harry still looked half-sick and Draco's eyes looked extremely fatigued. Lucius stretched his legs under the table discreetly. He was tired as well. The werewolf seemed to be fine for some reason. Lucius wrote it up to the peculiarities of the abnormality inherent in its nature.

Lucius was half way done with his crème brulèe when the boy shakily stood up and asked to be excused. He was rubbing his forehead and wincing. Lucius nodded at him in the informative. The last thing he wanted to see was Potter sick at the dinner table. Just as the child reached the doorway he gasped in pain and collapsed. Lucius stood up to check on him, but froze as his Dark Mark flared painfully. He caught Draco's eyes. His son gave him a negative headshake. So, Draco hadn't been called.

Remus was at Harry's side in a flash. "Harry, are you alright?" Harry gave a weak nod.

"Yes." He managed, grimacing. "You'd better go." He looked back at Lucius. "And be careful. He's upset about something."

Lucius ground his teeth and started for the door without comment. He'd find out later how the boy could know that.

"Father!" Draco grabbed his father's elbow. "Listen to Harry, please be careful." Lucius looked down at his son and nodded. With a quick squeeze to his heir's shoulder, Lord Malfoy was out the door and heading for the wards. He waited till he was in the entryway before touching his Dark Mark and summoning his robes. He then moved towards the dungeons. He had best secure a few things first in case his guests took to wandering.

Remus was still by Harry's side as Draco sunk back down into his chair. Harry shakily got to his feet, still holding his head. "Remus, stay with Draco. I'm going to go lay down."

"Harry…" Remus reached out for his student but Harry shook of his hand.

"Please, Remus. I don't want people around when I'm like this. I prefer to suffer in silence. Besides, there's a chance He might try a possession again. It hasn't worked since the Ministry, but I can feel him trying every once and a while."

"Then you shouldn't be alone!"

Harry glared. "It's easier to control when I'm alone. Occlumency takes a lot out of me. I'm better at it when I'm not distracted." With that, Harry turned and left the room, holding onto the walls for support.

Remus made to follow, but stopped and looked back at his other student. Draco was sitting silently at the dinner table rubbing his Mark and tracing the outline with a fingernail. The werewolf stood in the doorway and debated. A small sniffle made his mind up for him.

"Draco, why don't we go upstairs and have some tea?"

Draco looked up. His eyes were dry, but they seemed almost empty. He wordlessly stood and walked out into the entryway and up the stairs. Remus followed two steps behind. The boy stopped at the entrance to his mother's rooms. He eyed the doorway almost wistfully before continuing on to his own quarters. Remus followed him inside. The green fire blazing and the black furnishing made the former Gryffindor squirm inside.

"You don't have to do this, Remus. I'm a big boy." Draco's voice was back to its normal coldness but his eyes were shadowed. He poured a brandy and handed one to his professor without being asked. Remus took the glass and sipped.

"I don't like this. Why wasn't I called!" Draco slammed his glass down suddenly, splashing the liquid out and onto the table. Remus calmly took another sip of his own drink. "What if He knows! Father could be going to his death and I'm sitting here." Draco dropped bonelessly into his chair. "Suddenly, I know why that bloody hat wanted me in Gryffindor. There is a huge part of me saying I should go after him. It would be suicide to go without being summoned." Remus stayed silent and sipped again. "Merlin, I'm a mess." Draco put his head in his hands and glanced sideways at Remus. "What are you still doing here?"

"Getting drunk very slowly." Remus punctuated his statement by summoning the bottle Draco had opened and refilling his glass.

Draco looked shocked then laughed. "Is that your solution then?"

"No." Remus took a significant drink. "My solution is to _borrow_ a Muggle nuclear weapon and drop one on the Death Eater headquarters. This is just to fill the time up before I start working on it."

Draco blinked. "Remus, you are starting to scare me."

Remus smiled almost dreamily. "Then I'd use a second one on the Ministry of Magic building." Both sipped their drinks.

"Can we add the Daily Prophet's headquarters to the list?"

"Sure. Harry will like that." They both grinned. Remus gazed out at the fire. "You know, you're still pure Slytherin even if you want to save your father. It really isn't all or nothing. We all have a bit of each house in us. Sometimes, an event can pull out a certain part and magnify it. Harry really isn't all that Gryffindorish in day to day life. He just keeps getting thrust into situations that call for him to display grand courage. You on the other hand, keep getting to play the role of sneak and all around bastard."

Draco gave a questioning grunt.

Remus shook his head. "You're still here. If you were a Gryffindor you'd be running for the wards. As for the rest," He pointed at the fire and the furniture. "Need I say more?"

Draco grinned. "No." Then he frowned. "My 'predisposition' to Darkness is obvious."

Remus smiled thinly. "Oh yes. Your Dark Art's ability today was just staggering. Neither of you focused on the major Dark emotions." He sighed. "Thank Merlin."

Draco nodded. "I wonder why Dumbledore insisted on this. It's so dangerous. Harry or I could fall to this so easily." He paused. "Father told me to fail." Remus didn't look terribly surprised. "What I don't quite understand yet is why fear can fuel a Dark spell but not be Dark?"

"It is Dark, just not in the same way. I don't know how to explain it any better than your father already did." Remus shrugged. "I don't experience the Dark Arts like the rest of you. The wolf in me is Dark, not me. I've never cast a Dark spell. But it has. I can't…I can't help you with this Draco. Just be careful. Lucius was wrong; Fear can hide, sometimes better than anger."

The green fire was still burning merrily along, and despite himself and the topic of conversation, Remus was starting to relax in the darkened room. Perhaps the color scheme wasn't so bad….

Draco interrupted the calm atmosphere by moving closer to his professor and placing a tentative hand on his knee. "I think I might have a better idea to pass the time than getting pissed." His gray eyes flashed in the green firelight and seemed to glow the same color as the Killing Curse Harry had fired. Remus caught his breath.

"I…I wish I could." The werewolf hung his head. "You know what they did, Draco. Why do you keep trying?"

"I know that the procedure they used does nothing more than keep you from being fertile, not from amusing yourself and others. You can still get and keep an erection. I did my homework, Remus. Surprisingly, your balls have little to do with it."

Remus glared. "Thank you for putting it so delicately."

Draco shrugged. "How else could I put it? You can't form semen anymore. Big deal. Last time I checked, that wasn't essential to pleasure."

"That doesn't make what they did right or less disturbing."

"No, it doesn't. But it doesn't mean you have to be a monk."

Remus sighed, "It's not physical." Draco tried to hide his hurt but Remus quickly grabbed his hand. "No, it's not you either. It's a big trauma to get over."

"I'd say I can imagine, but I'd rather not."

"Let's hope you never do."

"I'll wait."

"Why?"

Draco smirked. "I'm a Malfoy. I never settle for anything less than exactly what I want."

"For how long would you want me?" Remus asked, his voice heavy with sadness and more than a bit resigned.

"I'm not sure. Let's say we start with at least a decade." Draco leaned in and kissed Remus before he could pull away. Draco pulled back just enough to murmur, "But I have a feeling you will be able to entertain me for far longer than that." The soft wisps of breath caressed the werewolf again, and then Draco was gone. The boy's bedroom door shut with a soft click leaving Remus alone in the sitting room. He stayed there looking at the strange fire for quite some time before returning to his rooms. He thought of checking in on Harry, but the soft sound of even breathing coming from the boy's door made that unnecessary.

Remus went to bed and tried to sleep himself. The lingering feel of his student's lips on his own kept him from slumber. When it finally came, it was fitful and short-lived.

**/ / / /**

Harry staggered into his room, holding his head. He stumbled halfway through the sitting area on the way to his bed. He put his hands out and caught himself on the coffee table. As he straightened up, he saw a long smear of red on the wood. Shocked, he looked at his right hand, the one that had been pressed to his forehead. Blood. He reached up to finger his scar, but thought better of it. In a daze, he finished the trip to his bed and collapsed onto the soft haven.

Harry closed his eyes. Snape and Dumbledore's Occlumency lessons hadn't stopped the visions. Instead, they had returned to their first nature, that of mere observation not possession or manipulation. Voldemort was once again unaware of Harry's spying on Him. Whatever had pushed the Dark Lord out of his mind that night in the Ministry building seemed to have reversed the polarity of their connection. Harry vacillated between elation and horror with regard to _that _particular development.

The scar gradually stopped throbbing and Harry drew a deep breath. He no longer 'saw' anything when _awake_, but the pain remained and he was constantly fearful of sleep. Harry had lied about his reason for wanting to be alone. Occlumency, while he had mastered it, didn't help him any, and he needn't be alone to use it. He just preferred to suffer alone and in silence. Agony and an audience clashed as far as he was concerned.

Harry opened his eyes and stared at his ceiling. He was getting rather fond of this particular ceiling. It had exactly 106 small imperfections. There was one particularly intriguing crack towards the left side of the room. It was small, nothing you wouldn't expect in a home with several centuries of history. But it was shaped just like the Thames. In all, the ceiling was far nicer than the Dursleys. And significantly less interesting (meaning cleaner) than the Weasley's. Also, he preferred to stare at plaster rather than the wood of Gryffindor tower or the orange of Ron's bedroom.

Harry forcibly stopped his train of thought. He was spending far too much time staring at ceilings debating the aesthetics of plaster. What was he doing? His problems wouldn't just disappear; no matter how much time he spent mentally measuring stress fractures.

The problem was, he was never sure when it was safe to sleep, thus his ceiling obsession. It was only when he slept that the pain turned into visual torture. Harry debated his options. Was Voldemort done or just resting? Harry waited for what seemed like an eternity. Nothing. No pain or weird emotions. Maybe he could risk some sleep. The lessons had drained him. Maybe, if he just rested his eyes he'd feel better…

Harry didn't realize he'd fallen asleep until he saw Lucius. The blond was kneeling at his feet. Harry blinked in confusion, only his eyelids didn't move. And he was taller. Wait…shit. Harry mentally sighed. 'Here we go again,' He thought as he felt his awareness start to melt into the vision. He desperately tried to cling to his consciousness, but his grasp was tenuous. A cold voice emerged from what felt like his throat.

"Lucius, you were late this evening."

Harry tried to shake his head in confusion. (He failed of course.) His scar had stopped hurting more than an hour ago. What had happened between his feeling Smoldywart's anger and now? And why had Voldemort waited to punish Lucius, or had the blond just now arrived? If so, what could have taken so long? Harry wanted to scream. His grasp of self was getting weaker and all he had were questions.

"I'm sorry, my Lord. I had to make sure the manor was secure before I came. The Potter boy has yet to be fully converted. There would be awkward questions if he wandered into certain areas."

Harry's eyes narrowed and 'his' voice answered back. He was fully inside the vision. The line between Harry Potter and Tom Riddle was virtually gone.

"Sections you blocked even from me." Voldemort/Harry hissed.

Lucius remained silent.

"What do you hide in those depths? What could be so precious to you that you would deny the release of your master's curiosity?"

The blond remained prostate and silent. Harry felt his anger rising.

"Crucio." Lucius fell forward, screaming. An intense wave of, 'holy hell' Harry thought, almost sexual pleasure washed over him and what little remained of Harry tried to gag. The blond twitched and arched his back trying in vain to escape the burning, searing pain. The wand in his hand vibrated with the curse and Harry continued to cast it, glorying in the rush of power. The Dark Lord was channeling all His pleasure into the Unforgivable, making it stronger as His glee grew.

Blood was starting to trickle out of the corner of Lucius' mouth. His convulsions threw it in a wide arc, hitting several of the other Death Eaters that were gathered in a semi-circle around the Dark Lord and His throne. It was obviously the Inner Circle.

Reluctantly, Harry let his arm come down and the curse end. He didn't want to kill one of his more useful minions without proper reason. It was a shame the man was consistently late, but at least he was bringing in results.

"Get up Lucius. And answer my question."

Lucius spent a long moment lying flat on his back before he struggled to turn over. He started coughing up blood as he got slowly onto his knees. His hair was limp and he struggled to keep it out of the red liquid. He failed.

"My…my lord…I…" Lucius broke off as another cough racked his frame, spitting up more blood.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Please, Malfoy. Stop your dramatics. Now what do you have that is so important you risked my wrath?"

Lucius closed his eyes and panted. He didn't even try to stand up further. "Just…just the family crypt and wand chamber."

Harry felt his amusement take over from the anger. "Wand chamber? You still have one? How very quaint." The Death Eaters let out a nervous collective laugh. "I knew you were obsessed with obscure conventions, but I never imaged it carried over into such antiquated rituals as wand chambers. Tell me, is your father's there?"

"Yes, my lord. That is why I asked you for it after you made good on our agreement."

Harry laughed. "I had wondered about why you insisted his wand be returned to you and not the body. I assumed you wanted to break it out of vengeance." A smile formed on his mouth. "I believe your eccentricities are going to be your downfall. This recent preoccupation with the avoidance of bloodshed most of all. I'm told you killed Mulciber's pet before he could play with him at the revel at your home. The child would have died anyway. Why not allow for a little amusement?"

Lucius attempted to sneer as a wave of pain wracked his body – an after shock from the curse. "It is common knowledge that I believe child molestation to be the height of crudeness, my lord. A child holds no challenge, there can be no thrill of chase. Only a coward and a base individual would lower themselves to such a level. Mulciber insulted me by attempting such a lewd act on my property." Mulciber bristled but made no move forward. To disrupt an Inner Circle meeting would cost him his life.

Harry watched his servant's barely controlled rage with amusement before continuing to question Lucius. "And the destruction of my prisoners in your dungeons?" His amusement faded at that memory. He had lost several playthings when Malfoy had pulled that stunt. The man's reasoning had never made sense. Of course he was dealing with Lucius. The man was a few knuts short of a Galleon; valuable but completely insane.

"I … I am sorry for that, my lord. I was under Ministry scrutiny. I had heard there was a raid planned on the manor."

"So you told me at the time. I have not forgotten, Lucius. I still feel you are keeping something from me. Your behavior before and since has not been satisfactory. The Snapes escaped from _your_ home, and now you have the Potter boy in your clutches. Why should I trust you, or your son?"

Lucius looked up with clear horror on his face. "My lord, we are loyal to you and your cause completely. If my actions have lead you to believe otherwise, please, set me a task to regain your faith. I will complete it with all haste."

"I can tell you're nervous, Lucius. Your speech is quite formal." Harry smiled. "And later I may just grant your request. For now, how is the Potter situation progressing?"

Lucius gave a weak smile. "He managed the Killing Curse today."

Harry nodded and smirked. "Oh really? And how did he accomplish this so quickly?"

"He thought of Pettigrew."

Wormtail jumped and went pale. An echoing laugh sounded out from the throne. "How interesting. Do continue in whatever vein you are working in. Perhaps I can win over Potter easier than I anticipated. I might be able to simply hand him a little present when the time comes." The rat positively cowered.

"As you wish, my lord." Lucius gingerly rose to his feet and swayed slightly. "The boy still has a considerable way to go. His loyalty to the old fool is strong, as are his memories of his parent's death."

"He remembers that night?" Harry frowned. "That could prove most difficult. I will give some thought to the matter. For now, let him continue to think your loyalty lies in the same direction as his own. It would be best to take this slowly. As much as I might relish killing the nuisance, I could use his talent. Good help is so hard to find."

"Yes master." Lucius finally stopped his hands from shaking as he spoke. Harry waved the blond back into the ranks.

"Now that our tardy member has made his report," Lucius cringed slightly. "We can get back on subject." Harry rose from his seat and moved into the arc made by his followers. "When I first summoned you I asked for status reports on your missions. It would seem that Lucius, while a dismal disappointment, has been the only one with anything close to nominal success. I believe a motivational exercise is in order. I used our delay to acquire the necessary visual aids. Wormtail, if you please."

The traitor jumped and scrambled out to a side room. A few moments later a struggling and screaming Mrs. Dolohov was levitated in. Her husband blanched but made no move to save her.

"Lucius, you offered to demonstrate your loyalty."

"Yes, my lord." Lucius tried not to look at the struggling woman. Katherine had always been nice to him.

"Kill her. Slowly." Harry smirked and watched Lucius force his face into impassivity. A quick silent spell later and the woman's fear and apprehension was fresh in the Dark Lord's mind as he unobtrusively pried the emotions out of her weak willed mind.

"It would be my pleasure, master." Lucius walked forward and drew his wand. He nodded at Wormtail and Katherine fell to the ground. He slowly circled her like a hungry predator. She whimpered and tried to escape backward, sliding along on the ground. Lucius smiled coldly and wagged his finger at her. "Now my little one, why bother? If you run, I will only make you scream louder and longer." His smile grew colder. "Perhaps I will anyway."

Katherine screamed and looked at her husband. "Antonin, why aren't you doing anything…please!" She didn't understand what was happening. One minute she was at home watching her little boy sleep and the next, two of her husband's friends had grabbed her and taken her here. And now Lucius had his wand and was acting like…and…she knew it wasn't going to be good whatever it was.

Harry smiled and sat back down to enjoy the show. The woman was newly married and had given birth to a healthy baby boy only a week before. Fresh meat. He watched her husband visibly shrink. It really was a shame he had to make sure Lucius hadn't lost his touch. It would have been far more entertaining if Antonin had been given the task. Oh well, maybe next time.

"Please, Lucius, what are you doing!" Katherine tried to reach for him but met only air as he shifted his robes to avoid her outstretched hand.

Lucius ignored her. He waved his wand and a glowing ring appeared on the floor surrounding the frightened cowering mass. She started scrambling backwards, heedless of the glowing ring. When her left hand touched it she let out an agonized scream. She pulled her hand away only to stare in horror. All the skin was seared off her palm where it had touched the ring. The smell of burned flesh floated across the room.

"Now, my sweet Katherine, don't run."

She whimpered. She no longer looked towards her husband but turned to the Dark Lord. "Please, my lord. I have done nothing!"

Harry didn't even dignify that with a response. Instead he smiled as another wave of panic brushed over him from the woman.

Lucius completely ignored the non-exchange. "If you wish, I could make this easier." She turned to him. "I could give you a choice."

"Yes?" She looked at him with large hopeful eyes.

"I can cast Cruciatus on you until you lose your mind, or go with the second more entertaining option."

"Please, no!" She cried in desperation.

Lucius shrugged. "Alright, if you insist. Option two it is. Although, if I were you I would have gone with the Cruciatus. It would have been quicker. _Exuo_."

Katherine's eyes grew large as she felt the cold air hit her naked skin. Lucius circled around to stand behind her, facing the Death Eaters. "_Tendo Aquila_." The spell forced Katherine flat out on the floor, her arms and legs spread wide exposing her entirely to the crowd. Harry leaned forward, would he really?

"_Acidulus Pulvia_." She screamed as the volatile liquid rained down onto her prone figure. Each droplet seared into her flesh, burning- eating at her. After a good portion of her chest, legs, and face had been marked with the circular burn spots left by the drops, Lucius ended the rain but left her spread out inside the circle of fire.

"_Frigus Simulacrum Vitium Virginis._" Several of the Death Eater's laughed and Harry leaned back into his cushions. So Lucius still didn't like to get his cock dirty. Shame really. After all, there were other reasons than absolute loyalty for the revels. He always enjoyed a good rape. There was something about one scream of terror mixed with the sounds of animal pleasure. It was a perverse pleasure to listen to, and perverse pleasures were a specialty of his.

The woman struggled with her invisible rapist as she fought to get away from the cold hardness thrusting into her. She gasped as the ghost appendage rubbed against her clitoris. She wasn't enjoying herself by any means, but the Death Eaters knew well that the fastest way to break a person sexually was to cause a physical response during a rape. So Lucius, in keeping with tradition, directed his unseen creation and added equally invisible hands. The bloody and beaten woman tried to stop her body from responding. Her husband not only refused to watch, but he shifted to the back of the group as the Inner Circle started to press in closer enjoying the show.

Lucius' face was completely impassive as he watched the woman vainly attempt to writhe away from her indifferent attacker. He finally brought the curse to a close when it became obvious that the physical agony from her wounds could not be overridden enough by his attentions to cause her ultimate shame. He released her bonds and she curled into the fetal position in the middle of the deadly ring.

But Malfoy did not give her long to rest. He paused for a moment, eyes closed, seeming to bask in her quiet whimpers and sobs. The pleas had long since ceased.

He opened his eyes and brought his wand to bare again. "_Incendo Capillus_." She started to scream, but the sound cracked as her vocal cords gave under her repeated wails. The fire lasted only a few seconds but it consumed every hair on her body, searing her from head to toe. She dropped to the ground, delirious, falling onto the ring. So far, all the blood and gore had stayed inside the red defining barrier. With her body lying on, and burning through, Lucius chose to prolong the torture instead of containing her and her bodily fluids. He dispelled the ring before the heat could kill his victim. She was barely conscious and the only sound coming from her throat was a strangled gurgle.

Lucius flicked his wand, levitating her off the ground. She hung limp in the air and Lucius made a halting swish. She folded in half, backwards. The sound of her spine cracking caused even the hardened Macnair to flinch. Lucius dropped his arm and she came crashing to the floor.

Lucius looked at his lord. Harry gave a slow nod. With one last flick, Lucius cast a Vanishing Spell. All the skin on the poor creature's body disappeared. The once human woman made another strange gurgle, her arms flaying but her legs uselessly still. The blood from her convulsive movements sprayed the gathered crowd. Lucius caught the most of it. His already red stained hair, from his own blood, caught a considerable amount. The long red strands seemed to magnetically draw the fluid.

The other Death Eaters stood watching as the woman flopped for several minutes before going still. Harry waved a dismissive hand and the body disappeared, but the gore remained.

"Antonin," Harry spoke, "Choose better next time. She was not worth our attentions."

Dolohov shakily stepped forward. "Yes, my lord."

Harry surveyed the assembly. "Good. Now all of you are dismissed. By next month's gathering I want progress." His eyes finished the sentence, 'or else'.

The Death Eater's slowly backed out of the hall. Lucius ignored the red hair swinging in front of him. He never glanced back at the charred circle on the floor or the pool of blood.

/ / / /

Harry felt like he had been hit by a whole trainload of Bludgers as his 'vision' cleared. At first the whole thing was blurry. Just quick flashes of red, black, and silver. Harry swung his legs over the edge of his bed and rubbed his scar, dislodging the crusted blood. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on the colors, hoping to form them back into pictures. Sometimes he could manage to piece them into something that reminded him of old Muggle movies. That was what had happened when he saw Hermione and Snape with Voldemort and when Hermione had killed Soren. Other times he never remembered more than a few fragmented images.

The first thing that hit him was a brief glimpse of Lucius under Cruciatus and a strong joy at the sight. Harry snapped his eyes open. He hadn't seen _from_ Voldemort's eyes since the end of fifth year. Normally he floated beside the Dark Lord, an invisible spy. And he'd never felt Voldemort's emotions so keenly… not even during those terrible nights when the Dark Lord had been feeding him dreams.

He took a deep breath and pushed the worry back. He _had_ to know. Even if Voldemort was planting the images, he still had to see them. Was Lucius even still alive? He counted his breathing until he was calm, just like Dumbledore had taught him during his Occlumency lessons. Five seconds in, fives seconds out. Five seconds in, five seconds out. Five seconds in, fives seconds out. Five in, five out…five…five…five…

Blood. There was blood. And screams. He fought to hold onto the scraps of knowledge. Slowly the past hour played past his eyes…he should have known better than to fall asleep.

_**A/N: Spell meanings in order: Strip Clothes, Spread Eagle, Acid Rain, Cold Spectre Rape, Set fire to hair.**_

/ / / /

Draco stared at his ceiling. He'd been staring at it for hours. He had feigned sleep until Remus left, but now he needn't bother. He got up off his bed, lit a candle, and picked a clean robe out of his closet. He smoothed the black silk carefully as he put it on. As a child he'd always wanted black robes. His mother had always insisted he wear colors and Lucius had indulged the woman – insane as she was. Now, he could wear what he liked. Draco sighed. He liked black, he really did. But he missed the brightness sometimes, the stupid little embroidered characters and all the hideous clashing colors. He especially missed one particular set. There was no way he'd be caught alive or dead in bright blue robes with prancing orange daisies now, but his mother had picked them out for him. She had been coherent enough to go shopping and buy them for him herself. He'd been five and they'd gone into Diagon Alley, without his father. It was the only shopping trip he'd ever taken with her not being under Imperius. He'd worn the robes until the house-elves could no longer take out the hem. He'd cried for hours when Dobby had thrown them away. They were the only things he could remember his mother giving him with her own hands.

He looked at the mantle over the fireplace. An ornate brass clock hung there. He had bought it right after fourth year to keep an eye on his father. The hands, labeled Father, Mother, and Draco, all pointed to home. So his father had returned. Draco nodded to himself. He always worried about the man after meetings. He started for the door, but stopped and looked back at the clock. On a whim he waved his wand and two new hands appeared labeled Potter and Remus. He looked at the clock for a long moment before changing the one hand to Harry. He might as well, it wouldn't kill him to call Potter by his first name and it might help him ingratiate himself to Remus.

Draco went to his mirror by the door and fixed his hair, just in case he ran into the werewolf in the hall. He was exhausted, but he had to make sure his father was all right. He picked up the candle and opened his door. He cautiously walked across the hall. He paused outside his father's room and knocked for the first time in his life. He anxiously waited. There was a chance his father had returned quite some time ago. He might be asleep… but no answer came. Draco pushed his worry down. It was unlikely his father was unconscious on the floor. The clock would have said he was ill or in danger, there were places for those. The man must be somewhere else in the house. Draco moved away from the door and headed for the stairs.

When he reached the causeway over the entry hall he stopped. He could hear the piano. The same segment of a song played over and over and over. Draco closed his eyes in sadness. He knew what the sound meant and he knew what he would find downstairs. All through his childhood, as long as he could remember, he'd heard those notes. His father would sit, completely unresponsive, at the piano playing them for hours. Sometimes, Draco would find him splattered with blood. Other times, he'd be immaculate. But the song never changed, and his eyes were always hollow.

He almost turned around. There really wasn't much of a point in going down. His father would not respond to anything. He'd tried everything from jumping up and down to screaming years ago. Nothing stirred the wizard. He had just started for his room when a hint of movement in the hall leading to the music room caught his eyes. Potter. Draco edged down the stairs and followed the Gryffindor.

Potter stopped right outside the room containing Lucius and the still repeating piano. Draco stood in the shadows and watched Harry watch his father. The Boy-Who-Lived just stared at the blond man. Draco crept closer to the door and peered inside. It was the worst he'd seen by far. His father's hair was almost as red as a Weasley's with blood and his hands were shaking over the keys. The black Death Eater robes were rumpled and dirty. And the man's eyes were not only hollow, but dead. Draco barely kept himself from running inside and trying to shake his father out of it.

"I know you're there, Draco." Potter's flat voice made Draco jump. "You have all the stealth of a drunken Ron."

The blond boy scowled and steeped out the shadows. "What of it, Potter?"

"Harry, remember." Harry sighed and leaned against the doorframe, never taking his eyes off the Death Eater. "What's wrong with him? He's been sitting there for thirty minutes playing that same section of song. I tried to talk to him, but…"

"He just ignored you."

Harry nodded and sneered. "I think he's gone insane."

Draco looked at the angry expression on Harry's face. The boy looked frightening. His green eyes were cold and hard. They reminded Draco of the Dark Lord's, only a different color. "You saw the meeting." Harry nodded. Draco turned to look at his father again. "It must have been a bad one. Father normally at least dispenses with the outer robes." Draco chose his words carefully. Potter, errr, Harry, could not be ignored. They were in the Dark Arts lessons together and Remus liked the boy and felt responsible for him. Draco pushed his irritation at the Gryffindor's disdain for his father back and tried to sound civil. "I can't believe he didn't at least take them off. He's never forgotten to do at least that."

"He does this often?"

Draco nodded. "Whenever he's upset. It's what he does to forget, I think."

"He doesn't deserve to forget." The ice in the boy's voice was cold enough to freeze dragon's breath. The black haired boy glared daggers at the piano and Draco finally let his irritation take over. He was tired and Potter was acting weird. Vision or not, Harry was acting like Lucius was a bad person. Draco knew his father wasn't perfect, but he was trying so hard to make everything all right for his only son. Why couldn't Harry see that?

"Potter, you have no right to judge him." Draco snarled. "My father is a great man. Without him you wouldn't stand a chance in hell of defeating the Dark Lord."

Harry snorted. "Don't give me that crap, Malfoy. You didn't see what he did. No great man could have done that. He bloody well enjoyed it!" Harry pointed at the silver mask sitting on the top of the piano and its permanent grin. The same grin Lucius had worn when he cast the first spells on Katherine Dolohov. "He had a grand time of it, Malfoy. You should have seen him and his _creativity_ at work."

Draco ignored the mask and pushed Harry into the wall. Enough was enough. Lucius just kept on playing. "Does it look like he had a smashing good time! Look at him, Potter. I don't need to see the meetings to know how they effect him. I. See. Him." Draco sneered at Harry and shook his head. Slamming Harry harder into the wall, he continued. "Don't judge my father by what you think you saw. He's been doing this for years. He has to look like he's enjoying himself to survive." Draco let Harry go and backed away. "All you saw was the act he puts on for You-Know-Who."

Harry looked skeptical.

"Look, it doesn't really matter if you believe me," Draco sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Just look at him. That's not what you do when you're in a good mood." Draco began to pace the hallway muttering under his breath about stupid Gryffindors and bloody inconvenient visions in the middle of dinner.

Harry paused to consider Draco's words. His rival had looked so relieved to see his father alive and well. The boy had come around the corner into the hallway trying to be sneaky, but his concern for his father had made him sloppy. Harry could see the anger and relief warring in the silver eyes. Draco defending his father was nothing new, but the blonde's desperation was. Harry deflated slightly but his eyes remained troubled. The Lucius Malfoy he had come to know didn't seem to jive with the man who just tortured a woman to death, a woman he obviously knew and had liked. And the man at the piano was different from both the others. Which was the Lucius Draco knew and was worried for? And then there was _that_ song. Why that song? It was _his_ song. Why would Lucius play it?

"Why that song?" Harry finally asked aloud. Draco stopped pacing and turned to look at his year mate.

"I have no idea." Draco shrugged and slid down the wall to sit in the doorway. "I've tried to figure out what it is for years. I learned to play just so I could pick it out to the music storeowner in Diagon Alley. He didn't know it either." The boy's voice sounded slightly whinny and more than a little bit tired.

"Let it be." Harry whispered and slid down opposite Draco. He was so confused. The memories and emotions from the vision had given him a headache and he just wanted it all to stop. He wanted it to make sense. He looked into the room at Lucius again. The man had looked so damnably into the torture, but now…Draco was right. He certainly didn't appear to have enjoyed himself.

The blond leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "Let what be?"

Harry smiled slightly, yet humorlessly. He wanted to scream, 'let it all be!' but he knew that wouldn't answer the boy's question. "The song, its name is _Let It Be_. It's by the Beatles." Draco looked up confused. "It's Muggle." Harry smirked as Draco looked even more befuddled.

"Why would Father play a Muggle song?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know, he's your father."

Draco shook his head. "Are you sure?"

"Well, you do look like him."

"Not that you idiot." Draco snarled but smiled.

Harry smirked. " I know." They went quiet and just listened to the piano and watched Lucius finger the same four measures over and over for several more minutes. Somehow, it felt nice to be sitting there. Harry tried again to force the vision out of his head. He knew it had been Lucius, but…it didn't _seem_ like Lucius. Had Snape done that kind of thing when spying? How could Hermione be with him after that? Harry sighed. Why would a man who had just killed a woman like that sit and play _his_ song? It wasn't exactly appropriate for a party or a funeral. What could it mean to Lucius? Harry knew what it meant to him. He'd been very small when he'd first heard it over the back garden wall. The neighbor had a portable radio outside while she snapped beans for canning. Harry had listened to the music, mesmerized. That night he'd played the song over and over in his head. Let it be. It made him feel better. _Mother Mary comes to me, speaking words of wisdom, let it be_. He'd felt like she'd been there, that mysterious mother Mary. She'd been there in his cupboard when he couldn't sleep or when the green tinged dreams came and he could swear he heard his mother's voice. But what did Lucius feel when he played that part? What could it mean to a Death Eater? Did Lucius have nightmares too?

"Draco?"

"Yes?"

"Could you teach me to play?"

Draco eyed Harry. "Why?"

Harry looked at the ground for a moment than squared his shoulders. He wasn't sure why, but his mouth answered the question anyway. "I want to snap him out of this." Draco looked at his father and then back at Harry. "I need to know why he's playing a muggle song, _this_ muggle song." Harry starred right into Draco's eyes. "I have to know." Harry surprised even himself with his answer.

Draco thought for a moment. "You like him." Harry was silent. Draco was right, but he was also wrong. "You have a crush on a Death Eater and it's killing you. You want to hate him and it's not working, even after all you just saw." Harry kept his face blank. He didn't really still like Lucius; he just wanted to know about the song. Really, he told himself, it was just the song that was making him ask.

Draco laughed. "Alright, Harry. I'll teach you. But if you hurt him, so help me Merlin I'll kill you."

Harry sighed. It was no use. Bloody teenage hormones. He wanted the older blond, and he couldn't deny it. He resignedly sighed. "Understood." But he still wanted to know about the song and why Lucius played it. For years it had kept Harry sane. He wasn't about to share it with a Death Eater, no questions asked.

The two boys slowly extended their hands and shook on it. They pulled one another to their feet and Draco kept eye contact with Harry.

"I hope you can help him, Harry. I've asked him about it, but he won't answer." Draco shook his head. "It's a crazy idea, but you have a way of making insane plans work."

Harry didn't reply, instead he looked back into the music room and frowned. "There's a reason he can't get past that measure, if I can get him through the song, maybe I can find out why he's playing it." _And why I feel so attracted to him_, Harry mentally added.

Draco nodded. "We'll start tomorrow before lunch. Meet me here. Father only sets foot in the music room when he's like this. He won't know I'm teaching you."

Harry looked surprised. "Thank you." He hadn't expected Draco to be willing to teach him, secretly or not. And he definitely hadn't expected him to do it without copious amounts of teasing.

Draco smirked. "Well, if I was doing something this silly I'd want it to be a secret too."

Harry rolled his eyes. He really should have known that was coming. "Whatever." He shook his head. "Come on, it's late and he's not moving." Harry guided Draco out of hallway and towards the stairs. As they reached the landing he stopped. "He will be alright alone?" Harry knew what it was like to sing that song for hours on end, and he knew how desperate you could get when the melody was no longer enough.

Draco watched his comrade's eyes grow distant and then focus reluctantly back on him. Whatever Potter was dwelling on, it seemed to be important and tied to Lucius. He thought about the boy's question and answered slowly and with conviction. "He's always alone." Draco went around Harry as the Boy-Who-Lived paused and seemed to shrink into himself a bit. He added a comment as he brushed past. "We're all alone, Harry. It's just a matter of learning how to live with it." Draco continued up to bed without another word.

Harry watched him leave and sat down on the top step. He didn't want to believe that. He couldn't believe that. What was there to live for if you were always alone?


	3. Chapter Three: Poco Più Mosso, Part I

Complications of Birth

Complications of Birth - REVISED

Author: Saavik

Disclaimer: I am not making money off of this. I'd like to, but men in black suits would come and take me away.

Summary: Sequel to Contemplations of Birth and the WIP Convergence of Birth. Now in seventh year, our intrepid cast faces the ultimate test of their loyalty, strength, and sanity.

Pairings: HG/SS, HP/LM, DM/RL, GW/CC, and others

Warnings: Spoilers for Book Five. For the rest, see chapter one.

_A/N: For all you people clamoring for more Hermione/Severus, it's in this chapter, part II._

**Chapter Three: Poco Più Mosso (A little more movement.) – Part I**

Harry and Draco met as planned the next day in the music room. The blond sneered as he pointed out what each key was for on the piano. He smirked as he pulled out a brightly colored book—charmed to wiggle and giggle—on how to read music. Harry raised an eyebrow and promptly told his once arch nemesis that he already knew how to read music. Muggle schools taught that in the primary grades. Draco looked slightly disappointed, but put the book away without too much fuss.

The boys spent a good two hours trying to get Harry's fingers to follow instructions. At one point, Draco even tried to charm them into obedience. Harry promptly hexed the boy's hair into an ornate sailboat shape in response.

As the afternoon free time wound down and it was time to leave for their practical DA lesson, Harry grew steadily quieter. Their theoretical lesson that morning had dealt with self-monitoring of emotions. It seemed Lucius was worried that Harry wasn't recognizing his true feelings. That could be very dangerous. If Harry mistook anger for something else, hatred for pity, or even fear for dislike, it would be much easier to fall into darkness permanently. Harry had spent the whole lesson feeling as though he was being lectured to like a small child with his hand caught in the proverbial cookie jar.

Draco let the Boy-Who-Lived stew as they put away the music books and tidied the room. It would not do for Lucius to see that they had been there, and Draco had learned to distrust house-elves. He glanced at the other boy from the corner of his eye as he closed the lid over the keys. The DA training really wasn't so bad. Draco didn't get why it was upsetting Potter, errr….Harry, so much. The Gryffindor seemed to be on an emotional roller coaster (Whatever that was. He'd heard Blaise use the phrase once and he'd liked it.).

One minute Harry would be happy and the next his eyes would grow cold and distant. Draco would have chalked it up to puberty, but something told him this was more than normal teen angst. The _Daily Prophet's_ article had said Harry had been abused at home. It was easy to see that when you actually took the time to look. The other seeker was so careful with objects, more careful than he ever was on the Quidditch pitch. He also tended to jump at sudden noises. If an adult, other than Snape, yelled at him, he would never look them in the eye. And when the tension went up in a room, for any reason, Harry would somehow manage to become _smaller_. He'd bring his shoulders in and lower his head, his feet would tuck under the chair he was sitting in, and he would exude an aura of 'don't hurt me.' It was pathetic really, but also oddly endearing. Draco frowned. Endearing and _Potter_ should never be used in the same sentence.

Harry was still quiet all the way to the study. Draco was getting a bit irritated. What good was it to have someone his own age in the manor if he couldn't get a good bickering session at least once an hour? Really, Harry was beginning to be less amusing than the house-elves -- and a great deal more labor intensive.

The study was empty when Draco pushed the door open. They still had about fifteen minutes by his estimation, so the blond dropped gracefully onto the bench and left the overstuffed chair Remus had conjured during their very first session to Harry. Why Lucius had left the monstrosity was beyond Draco. But like most things with his father, he assumed it was just another flight of fancy.

Draco turned to look at Harry as the other boy swung his legs over the side of the chair and let out a large sigh, rubbing the scar on his forehead as he did so.

"Harry, it won't be that bad. I'm sure the practical lesson will go smoother than last time." Harry just looked at him. Draco smirked, "Of course I doubt we'll have the privilege of tying them up this time." That at least got a smile out of the human bag of melancholy otherwise known as the wizarding world's favorite hero/scapegoat.

They lapsed back into silence for another few minutes. Finally, Harry got up his courage to ask a question that had been bothering him since his vision two nights before. He hated to show his ignorance of the wizarding world again, but it could be important.

"Draco, what is a wand chamber?"

The other seeker sat up a bit straighter and got quiet. His brow scrunched and he seemed to ponder the question. "I have a vague idea, but why do you ask?"

"Lucius said that he had to secure the wand chamber before he could apparate to Voldemort. That was why he was an hour late to the meeting and why Voldemort hit him with Cruciatus. What could be so important and take so long? Or was he lying? And what was he doing for an hour when he knew he was expected immediately?"

Draco shook his head. "With father, one can never be sure. I remember reading something about wand chambers in a family genealogical book somewhere. It's an old custom in pureblood families. When a wizard or witch dies, their wand is usually either burnt with their bodies or buried with them, depending on whether they hold with pagan or Abrahamic ideals. But it didn't used to be that way. Families use to keep the wands in crypts to remember their ancestors, and for power."

Harry nodded. "Voldemort said something about Lucius asking for his father's wand…."

Draco nodded. "Then it would be logical to assume we do have one. I'm afraid I wasn't aware of it. Just like the passages." Draco glared at nothing in particular remembering his father's secret bone-lined corridors.

"I'm sure Lucius planned on explaining it all to you soon." Harry placated. "With Voldemort rising again, and the question of everyone's loyalty, he was probably wary of divulging too many secrets until he'd decided where his own loyalty lay, let alone yours."

"He couldn't have waited too long to tell me about the wand chambers, not if he plans on holding with tradition." Draco whined and crossed his arms petulantly.

Harry blinked and took his glasses off to clean them on the edge of his robe. "What tradition?"

Draco pouted and pulled out his wand, holding it up so Harry could inspect it. "This is my training wand. As a wizard ages, his power ebbs, flows, and changes with his choices in magic. Not just Light or Dark, but things like Charms or Herbology, or even Transfiguration. Some talents are innate, but others are cultivated. A training wand is based only on the innate talents we posses, not on our conscious choices. It could be that a wizard has an inborn talent for Charms, but prefers to do Transfiguration. The ideal wand for both arts is vastly different."

Harry thought back to when he first got his own wand. "Olivander said he remembered when my parents got their _first_ wands."

Draco smiled. "Yes. Many wizards never switch from a training wand to a different one. It's common to become rather attached. In fact, unless a wand is broken, it has become unusual to switch. Your parents were part of the exception. They would have been required to get new wands when they entered the Auror program. They would have kept their first wand for a back-up, usually in an ankle holster or even broken down and placed in smaller pieces hidden on their person. Most Aurors go through a good two wands a year anyway. They either keep breaking them, losing them in a fight, or wearing out the magical cores."

"They wear out?" Harry looked at his wand in weary disbelief. What would happen if he got into another battle with Voldemort? If one of their wands was replaced, the Prior effect would not happen. And he'd likely not make it through a full out duel with the Dark Lord alive; the Ministry incident had proved that, painfully proved it. But Lucius had said his Killing Curse was strong, maybe…

Draco quickly sensed the unspoken tension in Harry and moved to reassure him. "Not with normal use, or even an occasional duel. But Aurors are constantly dueling. The strain on the wand is considerable when there are no long rests between confrontations. I wouldn't worry about yours anyway. Phoenix feather is the least stable but strongest stamina wand Olivander makes." Draco smirked, as Harry seemed surprised by the other's knowledge of what his wand was made of. "I make it a habit to know that kind of thing, Harry. It's part of being a Malfoy."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the lesson, but that still doesn't explain why your father would have to tell you soon to hold with tradition."

Draco pulled himself up and, in a voice oddly reminiscent of Hermione in lecture mode, continued. "Among the Slytherin Houses, and even the older families like the McGonagall's, it has always been tradition to get a new wand directly after the end of a student's seventh year – unlike the common dribble that have unwisely chosen sentimentality over usefulness. That's where the wand chamber comes into play. Instead of going to a wand shop, Slytherin families use to go to their family wand chamber or crypt. It was considered a test for the heir especially. If the son was compatible with a wand from a powerful ancestor, it was thought that he'd be as successful or even more so. But if a weak wand from a weak ancestor was found to be a match, the heir had to fear for his life."

"You mean you'd use a dead person's wand? I didn't think Malfoys would ever use anything, well, used." Harry shrugged his shoulders half in confusion and half in embarrassment.

Draco rolled his eyes and sneered. "It's not _used_, Potter. It's a family heirloom. That wand would be cherished. In fact, it would be _babied_. Say I got my great-great-aunt Sicialana's wand. She was a world leader in transfiguration. Then say I wanted to be an Unspeakable or an Auror. Don't look at me like that, Potter. I was speaking hypothetically. Say I went down one of those career paths. I would most likely leave Sicialana's wand at home when I went to work. I would take a store-bought one into danger and keep Sicialana's for experimentation at home, or for an honor duel. Then when I died, both wands would return to the Chamber, the store bought wand would be considered my wand alone and Sicialana's would bare both our names and histories."

"You sound like you're some kind of historic character with duels to save your sister's honor." Harry smiled.

Draco frowned. "I lost a cousin to just such a duel a few years ago, Harry. They still happen. That's why dueling clubs are popular everywhere but Hogwarts. The wizarding world is a dangerous place. We can live to be over 300 years old, but you rarely see anyone over the age of fifty. That's why so much is illegal. It has to be. As more is made illegal, more is invented, however. You always have to watch your back. An attack could come in any form, at any time, from anywhere. That's not paranoia; it's a fact of life here. Everyone has enemies and those enemies don't care who gets in the way. Strength, and the constant show of it, is vital to survival. Honor duels are simply a way of keeping your family's strength visible. Without them, a family is considered weak. If Hermione wants the Penwrath name to remain powerful, she will have to make sure she finds a way to publicly demonstrate her magical power. Otherwise, she'll become a target of not just the Dark Lord, but any power seeker that can say a curse properly. Fear is the only thing that keeps everyone in check. It's the only thing that keeps people that hate each other from making blood run in the streets of Diagon Alley."

Harry's smile faded. "Sometimes the wizarding world scares me, Draco. For all the muggle world has guns and car bombs, the violence is almost always out there somewhere. Here, well, here the violence is constantly surrounding us. The past seems to be living and taking up space with the present, and all of us are somehow bound in a giant loop. A never-ending, perpetual cycle of antiquated bedlam. Hate is so much more real here. So real that it soaks into everything."

Draco turned his head to look at his grandfather's portrait. Antiquated? Duels were antiquated in the muggle world? How did they solve anything? How did they maintain the bluff of invincibility? Draco pushed those thoughts back. He didn't want to ask Harry too much about the muggle world. Merlin forbid the Gryffindor should think the heir to the Malfoy estates had an interest in such things. "Is the past so much closer here than in the muggle world?" He asked lazily, picking at the varnish on the table to his left.

Harry sighed. "Muggles are obsessed with progress. Rip down the old, build up the new. A house is old if it's forty years of age. Pictures are taken down when someone dies. Children rarely stay in the homes they grew up in. Everything is moving and changing. You can tell when a picture was taken by the clothes people are wearing and the architecture in the background. In the wizarding world the only real thing that seems to change are the broomsticks."

Draco laughed. "Thank Merlin for that." His smile slowly faded though as he brought his eyes back to the portrait. "Is it better to change?" Gods, Draco hated feeling this melancholy. Damn the summers. They always made him maudlin.

Harry took a moment to answer. "Better, no. Worse, no. It's simply different, I guess. Comparing the two worlds is almost impossible, really. When I'm there, the wizarding world seems like a fairy tale and sometimes I forget it's real. I certainly forget the bad things like the constant tension between our houses. But when I'm here, the muggle world disappears entirely. I'm so out of contact with them, World War III could start and I wouldn't notice." Harry shrugged his shoulders. "And to be honest, I'm not sure I'd care."

"A Gryffindor not care about loss of life?"

Harry sighed. "At the moment I'm more concerned about there _being_ a muggle world to have World War III than I am stopping them from fighting. I'll worry about the muggles destroying the planet after I make sure we don't do it first."

Draco smirked, "Well I wouldn't worry about Smoldie ending all life on earth. He needs people to fawn all over Him too much."

Harry actually laughed. "True. But let's not take any chances." Harry glanced at the clock. "Remus and Lucius should be here any minute."

Draco followed his gaze before switching topic. "Harry, what say we go exploring tomorrow night? Perhaps with that cloak of yours?"

Harry didn't trust the glint in the gray eyes of his companion. "Exploring what?"

"The manor."

"Draco, you live here. Why would you want to explore your own house?" And with an invisibility cloak, Harry silently added.

Draco sneered. "Well I obviously should have done so years ago, if there's a wand chamber here and I didn't know it. After those passages and now this, I'm starting to feel like I don't know my own _chambers_. There could be secret cabinets or passages in my own sitting room, for Merlin's sake!"

Harry narrowed his eyes. "And you want me to come with you why? I'm positive you don't want me knowing any more secrets of Malfoy Manor than are absolutely necessary."

Draco's eyes positively gleamed. "You're coming along to help me with the wards. It's quite clear you're a powerful wizard, Harry Potter. Between the two of us we stand half a chance at getting through whatever Father spent a desperate hour throwing together."

"You're not wanting to check your room, you want to find the wand chamber." Harry looked at him carefully.

Draco smiled ear to ear. "Of course I do. Why should I wait to see if father is actually going to hold with tradition if I can just go get my wand _now?_"

"Maybe because there's something else to all this? He spent an hour, Draco, an _hour_ warding something or some things. He risked death to do whatever it is he did. Maybe, just maybe, he's been keeping secrets for your own good." Harry shivered. After all, the Malfoy family name had an association with the Dark Arts for a reason. Merlin knew what secrets Lucius might choose to hide from Draco. Secrets best left alone.

Draco rolled his eyes. "I can't believe I'm trying to talk a Gryffindor into sneaking around." He took a deep breath and leaned forward till his nose was less than a foot from his potential co-conspirator. "Come on, Harry," he whined, "let's go exploring." He batted his eyelashes. "You know you want to."

"God Malfoy, you'd think you were trying to proposition me."

"I _am_." Draco turned on his best 'I'm a charming and irresistible wizard' smile. "I'm just not interested in your body so much as your luck. You've done more than your share of this kind of thing at Hogwarts. What's so different here?"

Harry got up and backed away from Draco. Over the last year, ever since the Ministry, petty rule breaking just hadn't held much interest to him. It seemed too risky and the rewards too few. And then there was the little fact that Harry knew exactly what kind of icky stuff could be lying around. He'd already cleaned out one 'dark' house. "Grimmauld Place is what's different." He finally answered. Grimmauld place made all the difference, one way or the other.

Draco blinked. "The Black family house? What has that got to do with this?"

Harry ran a hand through his hair. "I helped clean it out once. It was scary, Draco. Really, _really_ scary. Like a giant Knockturn Alley but with furniture. Some of the stuff we found was not only dangerous, but _deadly_. I don't know about you, but I'm not up to speed on every Dark artifact and substance. We could run into dust that kills when you inhale it, or a boggart, or even a room that lets you in but not out. We could get trapped and it would take your father years to find our bodies." Harry looked at Draco, "I don't think this is a good idea."

Draco glared. "You're being over dramatic. And Malfoys aren't stupid enough to leave dangerous, which also equals expensive, Dark stuff lying around. It's all in strategic locations." Besides, the manor would never hurt a blood Malfoy. Of course, Draco neglected to mention that to Harry. Pure oversight, the blond assured himself smugly.

Harry still looked skeptical. Draco rolled his eyes. "For once, I'm not bashing spontaneous foolhardy behavior! Can't you at least let me have one go at it while I'm still young enough to appreciate it?"

Harry plopped back down in the chair. "Oh all right, I'll do it. But I'm positive I'm going to regret this."

"Regret what?" Remus asked as he and Lucius stepped into the room. Both boys jumped.

"Nothing." they chorused together.

The older wizards eyed one another and Lucius gave each a stern glare. Draco raised a haughty eyebrow in response, and Harry blushed slightly before lowering his eyes to floor, chewing on his lower lip. Remus motioned for Harry to give up the comfy chair and settled into it himself. Remus smirked, mildly amused by Harry's obvious discomfort.

"Whatever you boys are up to, please remember that you're here to learn things that very well may save your lives." Remus began. "I understand that it is summer holidays, but try to behave." Remus chuckled to himself. That sort of speech never really worked on James or Sirius, and something told him it wouldn't work this time either.

Lucius snorted. "Or at least try not to do something stupid enough to land you in St. Mungos." He caught his son's eye. "And remember what happened the last time you tried to brew an upper level potion in secret, Draconis. I'm not in the mood to have to rebuild the potions lab and Severus is too busy to try and find an antidote this time."

Harry almost asked what happened, but the cowed look on Draco's face made him think better of it.

"Now," Lucius began, "let us begin our practical lesson. We won't be doing anything too Dark, so we will not be going into the tunnels…."

The lesson continued on, and on, and on. Harry was less and less interested in it by the minute. When Remus and Lucius finally decided enough was enough, Harry was certain of his 'feelings' as he cast. He was fucking _bored_, that's what. Draco didn't look much better. It was hard to feel any emotion whatsoever when casting Wingardium Leviosa for two hours. When Lucius said they wouldn't be doing anything Dark, he had not been kidding. They were finally dismissed to get ready for dinner with a promise to practice extracted and the knowledge that sometime in the future they were going to be tested. Remus' heightened senses allowed him to tell exactly what emotions the boys were feeling, especially this close to the full moon. He'd be periodically looking in on the boys to see what progress they were making.

Harry shuffled into the shower and tried to push the thought of the full moon away. In three days Hermione would be going through her first natural transformation. And she would be alone. With Snape. The man was terrified of werewolves, with every right. Sure he'd give her Wolfsbane, and she'd be more than safe to be around provided Snape kept his wand on him, but there was no living way the potions master was going to be able to stay with his wife. Harry got the sudden mental image of Snape in the middle of a panic attack and a wolf-Hermione trying to comfort him and only driving him into a heart attack. No, this was not a good situation.

The topic came up again at dinner as a scowling Lucius informed them he had a message from Dumbledore. "The infernally cheerful headmaster has sent word," Lucius snarled – sounding rather wolf-like himself, "that we will be having two extra guests Friday evening."

Remus lifted his head from his dinner plate. "Friday is the first night of the full moon."

"Yes Lupin, I was aware of the fact." Lucius sneered. "I've already taken the liberty of changing the wards on the manor to not kill you when you transform."

"So who's coming?" Harry asked, even though he already had a good idea.

Lucius glared. "Severus and Hermione. I told the old nitwit it was too dangerous. If Voldemort finds out those two are here, all our covers are blown. But the barmy codger insisted."

Remus actually looked relieved. "Thank Merlin for Albus. I was so worried about Hermione. The transformations are difficult enough on a regular basis. But this will be her first time going through them fully aware." He smiled, although it looked more than a little forced. "Thank you, Lucius, for allowing them to come."

Harry chimed in. "And I'm sure Snape could use your company during it all. The man's not really in a position to provide Hermione much support with this. He's going to need a considerable amount himself."

Lucius' scowl deepened. "Oh yes, I'm sure he will."

/ / / /

The next day dawned overcast and chilly. Harry rolled over in his large bed, shoved his glasses onto his face, and gazed out his window into the wild garden outside. The dew still hung on the leaves and the sun wasn't even bright enough to cast a shadow. A lone spider was spinning a web in the casement and Harry watched it weave a pattern in the air. He should get up. He should get up and practice his _feelings_. Harry snarled. Feel this, he mentally muttered and wiggled further into the blankets.

Breakfast was probably already laid out downstairs. The others would wonder why he wasn't there. Harry didn't even try to summon the energy to care. It wouldn't be the first time he'd skipped a meal in his life, and Draco would probably cover for him. Ron always did. That almost made the boy laugh. The blond and redhead were as different as night and day. But something told Harry that Draco would keep the others away and give him some time to think. Call it teenage bonding, but Harry knew his year mate wouldn't fail him in this one little area.

Harry lay in his bed and stared up at his ceiling in thought. He should get up. His bladder was getting a little grumpy and his neck was starting to protest. He sighed. He really ought to get up. He had work to do. His summer homework was untouched. He had to practice that whole emotions thing, and, Harry smiled. It had been _days_ since he'd gotten to practice his new found favorite activity.

In one swift leap, Harry was out of bed and into the bathroom. How could he have forgotten to work on it? He'd been so close come the end of term. He'd almost managed it a few times before the final vision and Hermione's daring escape with Snape and Draco. He hummed as he quickly washed his face and brushed his teeth. He was _so_ close. He wandlessly summoned a clean set of clothes, muggle, and grinned as he put on the oversized pants and shirt. He didn't want to run the risk of ruining one of his good sets of robes. This kind of activity tended to quickly soil or just plain pull apart clothing. With one last grin to the mirror, Harry strolled back into his room and almost fainted.

Sitting on his bed, in all its large furry glory, was one large and very _very_ pleased Grim.

"Sirius?" Harry croaked and took his glasses off to clean them on his shirt. The large dog yipped happily once and jumped off the bed. In an instant, Sirius Black stood before The-Boy-Who-Lived and grabbed him up into a tight hug.

"Harry! I knew I smelled you in here. I was worried I had the wrong room. Your scent is all over the place, so is Remus'." The Animagus pulled back and looked the boy up and down. "What are you doing in those hideous things? Didn't we get you decent robes last summer?"

Harry groaned. "Sirius, you shouldn't be here! Does Lucius know you're here? What about Remus?" Harry frowned. "And don't start on my clothes. I didn't want to take a chance with my robes. It's safer to ruin these old rags than one of my everyday set."

Sirius plopped down on the bed causing it to bounce. "You worry too much. And no, Remus and Mr. Cold-and-Icy don't know I'm here." Sirius growled. "Dumbledore thought he'd pacify me with a cup of tea and then told me to stay away from you." Sirius smirked. "Like that would work."

Harry moved a stack of books off a chair and sat down. "Sirius, Dumbledore had his reasons for not wanting you here. In case you weren't paying attention, this is a bit of a delicate situation."

"Delicate isn't the word, Harry." Sirius moved to the edge of the bed and put his hands on Harry's knees and looked him in the eye. "You can't stay here, kid. Lucius Malfoy is a Dark Wizard. I don't know what has gotten into Dumbledore, but making you and Remus come here is damn close to criminal."

"No, Sirius, it isn't. And he didn't make us." Harry put a hand on his godfather's shoulder. "It was sort of our idea, ours and Hermione's."

Sirius pulled back in shock. "What are you saying?"

Harry ran a hand through his hair and stood up to pace. "I was learning Dark Arts from Snape or really illegal magic to be quite honest," Sirius looked murderous and Harry held up his hand for silence and the Animagus reluctantly refrained from making any comment. "It was mostly a cover. If Voldemort thought I was going Dark, He might leave me alone. Merlin knows I could use a break." Sirius snorted and Harry gave a tired grin.

"Anyway, I'm sure you've heard from the Order what happened. Snape was exposed as a spy. He and Hermione barely made it out alive. And my cover was also blown. Hermione came up with the idea to have Lucius take over where Snape left off and keep me out of the fight a bit longer. Voldemort loves the idea of turning me, so He's letting Lucius mentor me."

"But the Dark Arts! Harry, you can't learn those!" Sirius' tone was pleading.

Harry sighed. "I don't have much of a choice. I can't very well fight the Dark Lord with a well placed tickling charm now can I? And according to Lucius, there is no such thing as Dark Arts, just Dark Magic and illegal curses. Some of the illegal spells I can learn here will come in quite handy later on. And this keeps me safe, at least for a while."

"Safe! You're living with a Death Eater!" Sirius roared.

"Snape was a Death Eater. You may not like him, but you've had to trust him in the past. I'm asking you to trust Lucius now."

"Trust him! At least Snivellus was a spy. And I don't trust _him_ any further than I can throw him."

Harry glared. "Don't call him that, or by Merlin, I'll make you regret it. Lucius and Snape are both vital members of the Order, like it or not. And Hermione thought this up, not Lucius. As a matter of fact, Malfoy hates this idea. He can't stand teaching the Dark Arts. Draco is in on the lessons too, and it's killing Lucius to teach his own son these things. To top it off, Remus is always in the room monitoring and helping with our lessons. You need to have faith."

"Faith in a Malfoy? It's ludicrous."

Harry tried to ignore the hate in his godfather and calmly spoke, "No, Sirius, faith in me. Faith that I can handle this and that if I can't, I'll say so. Faith that I can learn what I need to learn and come out reasonably intact. I don't like it anymore than you do." Harry's tone grew bitter. "And I don't want to end up as anti-social as Snape, but I need to do this. I _have_ to do this. There are spells I can learn here that I can't anywhere else."

Sirius cut in with a scowl. "I still can't believe the old man let Hermione marry that greasy git. And you should fear turning into the same kind of cruel inhuman monster as our dear potion master. The Dark _**Arts**_ made Snape the greasy bastard that he is; you would do well to remember that."

Harry's eyes flashed. "Severus Snape is one of the only reasons I'm still alive, Sirius. He's saved my life countless times. I'd like you to kindly remember that. He's also my best friend's husband and my personal friend as well. Dark Arts be damned, I rather like him. He's got a great sense of humor and his dedication to the Order is unparalleled."

"Harry, he's Snape!" Sirius was sounding desperate.

"Hermione loves him, Sirius. She loves him with every fiber of her being. It's not a potion or a spell, it's love. I have to honor that." Harry sat back down and pulled his knees up to his chest. "Look, I've had a lot of time to think things over this last year. I haven't had much time to talk to you, but you need to understand that I've grown up a lot." Harry looked up. "When I…when I saw you fall through that veil…"

"Harry, you don't have to tell me this." Sirius dropped his anger and concern started to form in his blue eyes.

Harry shook his head. "Yes, yes I do. Sirius, it was my fault you almost died. I still don't know how you made it back out. We may never know, since you don't remember either. All I do know, is that if I had paid more attention to Snape, the whole Ministry incident would never have happed." Harry looked back towards the spider in his window. It had almost completed its web. "I also blame Dumbledore for withholding the truth, but in the end, it was my choice to end the Occlumency lessons and to go half-cocked into danger. It's been my choice far too often."

Sirius reached out towards Harry but stopped the movement half way and let his hand fall when he felt the boy's magic flare and prickle dangerously. "Harry, it's not your fault. You can't carry the weight of the wizarding world on your shoulders."

A bitter laugh greeted his ears. "Yes I can, Sirius. I have to. That's what the bloody prophecy says, you know. It's my destiny to kill the lord-of-arrogance. It's my mission in life. And that's why I'm here. I'm here to learn what I have to to survive."

"But the Dark Arts?"

Harry looked up and his green eyes appeared mostly dead. "If it takes the Dark _Arts_ than so be it. Voldemort has to die, Sirius. If it takes my life, my soul, than so be it."

Sirius shook his head. "No, no Harry. Not at that price. You can't become what you're fighting. If you use the Dark Arts to defeat Him, He's already won. The battle will be over before it starts." Sirius angrily tucked his hair behind his ear. "Look, my parents made me learn this stuff. It killed a part of me. A part of me I can never get back. I know what it's like to cause another human being to suffer. That's something I can never take back. I don't want you to live with those nightmares."

"Nightmares!" Harry shouted and leapt off his chair. "Nightmares! Do you have any idea what kind of dreams I have? I see what Voldemort does, Sirius. I _feel_ it. I hear it. I _taste_ it. Some nights it's all I can do not to vomit all over my bed. Other nights, so help me, I enjoy it. I enjoy it, Sirius." Harry was almost crying. "Don't you get it? That sick bastard is starting to make me like it. And it's not him, Sirius. It's me. I see a Death Eater that failed Him, I watch Him torture them. And it makes me glad to see them scream. I yearn for it. I've caught myself hoping for a vision just to watch Voldemort torture His own Death Eaters." Harry left out his disgust at Lucius' resent torture. As a matter of fact, it was only as he spoke that Harry realized how he had started to feel. It scared him that this had gone unnoticed. He felt cold, cold down to his very bones. Maybe Sirius was right; maybe this was all wrong. But he needed this training to kill the Dark Lord. What other option did he have? Sirius' eyes were dark with worry as he cut in on his godson's thoughts.

"But those are things He does, not what you've done."

"What I've done," Harry snorted, "what I've done. Let me tell you what I've done." Tears had started to fall. "I was eleven when I killed a man with just my touch. I was twelve when I slew a Basilisk and resigned myself to a slow painful death by poison. I was fourteen when I dueled a fully grown Dark Wizard for my life. A duel I was woefully under equipped for. I was fifteen when I watched the only person I could truly consider family fall into another realm. Not ten minutes later I cast Cruciatus at his cousin." Sirius' mouth dropped open. "Nobody told you that, did they? I cast an Unforgivable at Bellatrix. All I did was knock her off her feet. I didn't have enough joy in pain to make it work, but I had enough hate. I have enough hate."

"Harry…"

"Don't Harry me, Sirius. This is something I have to do. Even if I don't want to." Harry wiped his tears away and willed his eyes to stop betraying him. "Don't you get it? I'm already Dark. Any spells Lucius or Snape can teach me are meaningless. You're confusing illegality with Darkness. There are no Dark Arts. There is only Dark and Light intentions. What they can do is teach me how to make sure I'm not lost to this, this maddening need for revenge." Harry kicked a book across the room. Small objects where starting to shake as his anger escalated. "I wake up most days and all I can think about is getting rid of that bastard. I can't go on like this. I have got to get a handle on myself before I become worse than Voldemort." He rounded on his godfather. "Until this moment I didn't get it. Lucius went on and on about what the Dark Arts really are, emotions behind spells and being mindful, memories to cast and all that. But until now I didn't get it. It's me that's Dark, not the spell or the wand movements. It's me. It's _inside me_, Sirius. They aren't teaching me to be Dark, they're teaching me to be _Light_."

Harry looked at his godfather and closed his eyes, willing his anger back in check. "Yesterday, Remus kept telling me I needed to practice being mindful of my emotions. I thought it was because I wasn't finding a proper memory to cast with. But that's just it. Sirius, I've been randomly casting Dark since fifth year. The only spell I've done consistently with Light magic has been the Patronus. Everything else I've either cast blind or motivated with anger. Every last Lumos, Sirius, every Accio and every Transfiguration. Anger towards myself, anger towards Dumbledore, and anger towards the world." Harry shook slightly as he sunk to the floor. He looked up with hollow eyes. "Don't ask me to leave, Sirius. Don't ask me to walk away from my only shot at this. If I can't get a grip, gods, if I can't get through this, I'm not going to make it out of this alive. I used to cast magic just to feel the joy. I did it all the time. Lately, it's all muted. I rarely feel the rush anymore. Remus was here a while ago and I was levitating a book just for the heck of it. I told him I did it to feel magic and happiness. But so help me, I didn't feel happy, just frustrated. Frustrated and angry, and I thought I was happy."

Sirius sunk down to the floor opposite the boy. "Harry, you're not Voldemort. You're not evil. You can't be."

"Why? Because I'm a Gryffindor?" Harry's magic flared and the mirror cracked in the bathroom. "This isn't about houses. Is it because I'm James Potter's son? That's a load of bullshit. I'm no more my father than I am King of England. No, Sirius, we all can be evil."

Sirius shook his head. "Not you. Even now you care too much. You have to much hope and joy in you to be evil."

Harry shook his head. "Joy? What joy?"

Sirius looked around the room. "You were happy when you saw me. You were happy about something even before that. Tell me you were thinking about torturing someone and I'll believe you."

Harry coughed. "No, I was thinking about a project of mine."

"Did it involve disembowelment? Curses? Some Dark ritual involving ugly muggle cloths and dried toothpaste on your chin?"

Harry sniggered and rubbed the offending paste away. "No."

Sirius grinned. "See, you just laughed. And it wasn't all cold and cackling. Tell me, in all your visions, has the Dark Lord ever laughed like that over something silly?"

"No." Harry sounded hesitant.

"See? You're not Dark, Harry. You're just a teenager. Angst comes with the territory."

Harry leaned forward and hugged the older wizard. "Maybe you're right, for now, but I don't think you're grasping the full picture."

"How so?" Sirius returned the hug and then pulled back to watch his godson's face.

Harry leaned back against the wall. "I'm not a normal teenager. And when do you think Dark Wizards are made? The choice of what you will become is made in these years, Sirius. Either you overcome your angst or you drown in it. Snape almost drowned, he's still fighting it even now. Riddle did drown. So did Pettigrew. Lucius was more lost in hopelessness and rejection than angst or he'd be gone too."

Sirius wiggled around till he was sitting shoulder to shoulder with Harry. "So you're facing that choice?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah." He leaned into Sirius. "I thought I could do this, you know. I thought I could learn to harness Dark Magic and still be me, as long as I used fear instead of anger. But I don't think I can hold on to the fear. I think what I thought was fear was just the first layer of hate." Sirius stiffened. "Don't say it, Sirius. I know your arguments. You think illegal means Dark. I can't think that, not anymore. I've been on both sides for too long." Harry gave a slight tremble and fought his magic back under control before he got upset again and did more damage.

"But I think I've discovered a new interpretation to all that theory Remus shoved at me three nights ago. He said I needed to separate myself into two parts, one Light and one Dark. And to bring out the Dark part whenever I needed to cast with a Dark emotion. Lucius and Remus said that fear and anger were Dark and that they'd be what I'd feel when I next faced Voldemort. They said I needed to learn to cast with them. The whole Dark Arts training is to teach us what spells match which emotions and how to make ourselves feel appropriately. Or at least that's what I think they were saying." He looked at Sirius for conformation.

Sirius nodded. "I've never held with that definition of Dark Arts, but the theory is familiar. If you can alter the wand movements to match your mood, you can increase the power of your spell. And if you can achieve an emotion that is best matched to the spell, you can triple the output. We studied it in Auror training. It works, but I still say some things are just Dark and some just Light. Emotions be damned, it's all in the spell."

Harry didn't bother to argue that point. It was an age-old argument, and one he wasn't sure was worth the time. "Yeah, but what I'm saying is that I think what I need to learn is to control my emotions. Period. The spells themselves aren't all that important. I mean, I can cast the Killing Curse all I want, but if I continue to do it with anger like I have been, I'm not going to be able to keep myself from casting with anger all the time. It's, well seductive, if bloody frightening. It's like the Dark half of me will eat the Light half if I'm not careful."

"You cast the Killing Curse?" Sirius looked shocked.

"Yeah. I killed a fluffy bunny. But I was thinking of Pettigrew when I did it." Harry tried to justify.

Sirius was silent for a moment. He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. "Harry, that was…that's worse than the Cruciatus."

Harry rolled his eyes and snorted. "Like you need to tell _me_ that. I'm the only one to be on the receiving end of both to live to compare them. But you don't honestly expect to survive this war without using it do you?"

Sirius blinked. "Of course I do! Why would I use a Dark Spell?"

Harry sighed. "Be realistic. In the middle of a duel, Order vs. Death Eater, are you going to take the chance to simply Stupefy someone and have their buddy undo the curse while your back's turned? The only sure way to reduce their numbers will be to permanently remove them from the game. The fastest and most reliable way will be the Killing Curse. Every Death Eater who can manage multiple castings will be using it. It's going to be a bloody mess. Our numbers aren't large enough to keep letting Death Eaters go. The only way to eliminate them, now that Azkaban is defenseless, is to kill them."

Sirius bristled. "Without a trial?"

"Sirius, if someone is shooting curses at my head while wearing a white mask and black robes, I'm not stopping to call a jury. I'm not talking about executions, I'm talking self-defense."

The Animagus shifted nervously.

"Sirius, I'm not leaving here." Harry put a hand on the other wizard's shoulder. " But I think I know what I have to do now. Thank you. I think you may have just saved me. I have an idea how to make this all turn out okay."

"What is that?" Sirius' voice was shaky.

Harry smiled. "My negative emotions are stronger than Lucius or Remus think they are. I can't cast with them and not get dragged under by them. I'm not strong enough. There's a part of me that's too, too Dark already. Maybe it's part of what I got from Voldemort along with Parseltongue, or maybe it's from growing up with Dudley, I don't know. But I do know that I can't let myself cast using memories of fear and anger anymore. It doesn't matter how powerful they make me. I'm not taking the chance. You were right. I can't use the Dark _Magic_. But I can and will learn illegal magic."

"So what are you going to do?" Sirius closed his eyes and hesitated. "Can you cast an illegal spell without using Dark Magic? Assuming Malfoy's definition of the two is correct, which I don't."

Harry looked at his knees. "I'm going to try and find more happy memories. I'm going to try and stop hating so much. I'm going to forgive Dumbledore for keeping secrets. I'm going to try and forgive myself for things I really couldn't control. And I'm going to try and not cast without being _very_ aware of what I'm feeling."

"What do you think that will accomplish? You said you had to use the Killing Curse. That's Dark, Harry. You can't cast it when you're happy." Sirius sounded confused.

"Yes, you can. It's just really hard. And it's not Dark. A spell isn't one or another. Don't argue with me, Sirius. I'm not in the mood."

Harry looked up and turned his head to catch Sirius' eye. "I've got to learn how to move past anger and hate and fear before I do anything else. I've got to learn how to keep myself _me_ no matter what horrors I'm facing. It's risky. If I can't do this, than I'll die when I finally face off with Voldemort. It would be safer to just learn to harness my anger. It's powerful. Really powerful. Lucius said my Killing Curse was almost the power of Voldemort's and it was my first time casting it. But if I just go the quick and easy way, I won't win in the long run. You're right. If I let myself go down that path, Voldemort will win even if I kill him."

"Harry, I don't want anything to happen to you. And you can't learn the Dark Arts without negative emotions. I don't care what line of bullshit they've been feeding you. Remus included." Sirius sighed. "My mother made me learn them, I know all about it. I used to think about Snivellus, sorry Severus, whenever I did a Dark Spell, and your father when I did a Light one. What if you did something like that? Cast everything with one or the other?"

Harry shook his head no. "That's not going to work for me, Sirius. I don't have any memories or people that are all good or all bad in my head. It's all shades of gray. I've got to simply learn to not let my negative side come out in my magic. And other than Cruciatus and Obliviate, that shouldn't be a problem with the spell." Harry smiled slightly.

"Not that old argument. Obliviate is not Dark." Sirius frowned. "And do you really think you can control your emotions that far?"

"It worked for Luke Skywalker." Harry grinned.

Sirius snorted. "You are not a muggle fictional character. And don't forget Darth Vader."

"Lessons can come from strange places, Sirius." Harry slowly got up off the floor and offered the other man a hand up. "Come on, can we change the subject? Since your being here breaks about a dozen rules and orders, let's make the most of our time and stop arguing? I've got enough to worry about. Can I have one morning of fun with my godfather before reality comes and spoils it all?"

Sirius got a mischievous grin. "Fun? What did you have in mind?"

Harry shrugged. "Nothing. Any ideas?"

Sirius made an effort to push the previous conversation out of his mind and plopped back down onto the bed and rested against the rumbled pillows. "What 'project' were you about to work on when you saw me?"

Harry stopped picking up his books, his back frozen. "Nothing." Sirius had been teaching him over the summer, but Dumbledore had taken over the lessons. Sirius wasn't much of a teacher, but Harry didn't have the heart to tell him that. If Sirius found out how much progress he'd made, and in such a short time, he'd be upset.

Sirius smirked. "I know that tone of 'nothing'. You were up to something." He bounced slightly on the mattress. "Come on, tell old Sirius. What were you up to? Pranking Lucius?"

Harry snorted and put the last book back up onto the chair. "No, I value breathing too much for that."

"So what was it? Going after Remus? I'd have to advise against that. This time of month he's pretty hard to sneak up on. He looks all tired, but really he's at the height of his senses and reflexes."

Harry sighed and sat down on the other side of the bed. "You promise not to tell anyone? And not to be angry at me, or Dumbledore?"

Sirius' grin got bigger. "Is it that good? Merlin, I love mischief. Alright, so long as it's not too dangerous, I agree."

Harry blushed a bit and fumbled with the blanket. "Oh, it's not really that dangerous. Nothing you didn't manage when you were my age." Sirius got a cheeky grin and Harry realized he'd jumped to the wrong conclusion. "NO! Not that, it's not about that."

Sirius looked slightly disappointed. He'd been hopping Harry might have finally found a love interest. It simply wasn't normal for a boy his age to go so long without a girlfriend – or at least a quick fumble in a hallway. Although considering the candidates present in the house, he'd have to say he was more than slightly relieved. Narcissa Malfoy wasn't really on the top of his list for Harry, especially considering the whole Black family connection. Sirius thought about what Harry had said. Something he'd done….

"You've been working on your Animagus transformation!" Harry nodded and Sirius beamed. "Great! So how far have you gotten? And why would I be upset?"

"You're not mad?" Harry asked somewhat timidly.

"Mad?" Sirius laughed. "No way! This is great. Does anyone know, other than Albus of course?"

Harry shook his head no. "Just the headmaster and Snape 'cause Dumbledore told him. Not even Hermione knows. I thought it could be something you and I kinda, shared, or something. Even if you didn't get to finish my training."

Sirius reached out and ruffled Harry's hair. "That would be nice, kid. So, answer my question, how far are you?"

Harry grinned. "I'm ready to try for it. I just wanted to wait till you were with me since you started it, I thought you should see it finished. I've been practicing up to the actual point of transformation. I've just about got it down. But I'm getting tired of stopping just short."

Sirius' grinned grew huge. "Then let's see if you can manage it then! Any ideas what you are? Maybe a stag like James?"

Harry's smile faded. "I'm something smaller, Sirius."

Sirius didn't let his disappointment show. "Well, you aren't your father, Harry. I'm sure whatever form you've got is just as good, and probably more suited to you. So, give it a go and I can stop guessing."

Harry closed his eyes and cleared his mind. He focused his magic inward and reached for that small part of himself that was feral, the little bit of animal left in every human. He pushed his magic into it, let it grow. He felt his humanness fading, growing weaker and more distant. Smells changed and he felt the air shift around him. He'd come this far many times before, but there was just a little way left to go, where he'd never been before. He kept feeding his magic to the beast within. Just a bit more….

With a groan, Harry felt his skin start to shift. It burned and stung. Harry was panting and the pain was making his head spin. But he kept feeding his magic. Dimly, he heard Sirius encouraging him, telling him the pain would pass. He didn't dare try to respond. He put all he had into the last push, wishing now he'd had breakfast so he'd have something to throw up as his stomach protested.

He fell off the bed with a thump, landing on all fours. His vision blacked out and the air rushing in his ears blocked out Sirius' instructions. Merlin, it hurt almost as bad as the Cruciatus. For a moment, Harry wondered if this is what it felt like for Remus every month. Harry would prefer death.

Than suddenly, it was over. Harry waited for a comment from Sirius for a few minutes. When he didn't get a response, he risked opening his eyes. He was staring at the underside of his bed. Only everything was in black and white. Yet his brain was still somehow converting the shadowy differences into colors. He sniffed the air and could pick out different scents that he'd never noticed before. He was on his side. He slowly managed to stand, wobbling a bit on his feet, his four feet.

A strangled cough caught his attention and he looked up to see Sirius peering over the edge of the bed. Only to have the man disappear back with a barked out laugh.

"Harr….Harry, what _are_ you?" The older Animagus chuckled and peered back over. "You weren't kidding about being small."

Harry felt his lips curl back and he somehow managed to clamor up onto the bed. Sirius was still laughing at him. Harry tried to glare, but Sirius only laughed harder. Annoyed, Harry took a swipe at him with one of his front paws. All five claws cut a gash in the wizard's leg. Sirius yipped and then stopped laughing.

"Harry?" He asked, confused. "I didn't mean anything, honest. It's just, you look like a muggle bank robber." He summoned a mirror and held it out.

Harry peered into the glass and recoiled slightly. He'd been expecting some kind of dog. What he saw looked like a house cat crossed with one of those American raccoons. His tail was almost as long as his body, but short haired. He had the black mask of a raccoon, but his body was sleek and dotted with black spots on white fur. He was odd looking, but nothing to warrant Sirius' amusement. At least not in his opinion, and that was all that mattered in the current situation after all.

"I think you ought to change back, Harry. Then we can try and figure out what you are." Sirius was still trying not to laugh.

Harry nodded reluctantly and jumped back down off the bed. Other than that first moment of dizziness, he instinctually knew how to handle his body. He concentrated his magic back inside himself and forced the change back. Only this time it didn't hurt and in a few seconds he was back in human form, panting in a pile of what was Dudley's clothing. Sirius got him a clean robe and helped Harry shrug his way into it before propping him up on the bed. Harry was exhausted. And very very hungry all of a sudden.

"Sirius, you can stop grinning like a maniac. And I'd clean that wound. I did a number on your leg." There were five long bloody gashes on Sirius' leg. Sirius looked down and shrugged.

"Nothing to worry about. Now, hold still. I want to try a spell. Now that you've transformed this should tell me what you are. James and I invented it when we were trying to figure out exactly what breed Padfoot is." Sirius pulled out his wand and muttered a long incantation. A string of smoky letters floated out of the wand and formed over Harry's head. "Civet. What's a civet?"

Harry shrugged. "How should I know? There's a book on animals in my trunk." Sirius clamored to get it. It turned out that civet's were native to Africa and used to make perfume by squeezing glands located on their rear ends. Both Harry and Sirius made faces and continued on. They were nocturnal and rather vicious when threatened. Well, that sounded a lot more promising than making perfume out of your butt.

Sirius read off the description twice and shrugged. "Well, at least you've got claws."

Harry smirked. "And teeth. And I'm a dark color and small enough I can sneak about. Better than being a huge canine that everyone thinks is a Grim."

Sirius held his head high. "You should have more respect for the Newfoundland, Mr. Potter. They are an old and highly respected breed."

Harry laughed. "You sound like your mother." Sirius choked and Harry patted him on the back. "Now then, I want your promise that you're not going to go telling people that I've got glands in my rear that make perfume. And I'll promise to never let on how much you can sound like an elitist pureblood snob."

"Harry!" Sirius whined, "But come on! Remus would just about die to know you transformed!" Harry glared. "Okay, okay, he'd yell at us. But then he'd think it was funny. Eventually. Okay, maybe he'd just get tired of sulking." Sirius seemed to think for a moment, than sighed. "Alright, I promise."

"Good." Harry hugged him and than collapsed back onto the pillows. "Tell me that gets easier."

"It gets easier." Sirius shuffled about and managed to get Harry tucked back into bed. "Now you just take a little nap, and I'm going to go explore for a bit."

Harry sleepily grabbed for Sirius' hand. "Oh no you don't." He yawned. "This is Malfoy Manor. You have no idea what's here."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Harry, it can't be any worse than where I grew up. I mean, you saw that place. It's a wonder I lived long enough to go to school. One wrong step and I'd have offed myself before my tenth birthday. I'm sure I can manage now that I _know_ what stuff is."

"Sirius, I don't want you to get hurt. Again." Harry's eyes were blinking and he was so tired. It felt like he'd been drained of all energy. It was worse than when he'd cast the Killing Curse. "And what about the wards?"

"I got in didn't I?" Sirius smirked but Harry looked skeptical. "Look, Lucius reset them so that Remus could transform. They're excepting canine forms now. He made the loophole a bit too big. Most wizards make that mistake. There aren't enough of us Animagus' to make people change their wards to exclude them. I'm good to roam and come and go." Sirius smiled and readjusted the blankets. "Now you just sleep tight and I'll be back to wake you before lunch. I'm sure the blondes will miss you if you don't show up for two meals in a row."

"I have to go to the theoretical lesson after lunch." Harry mumbled and Sirius' smile faded.

"I'll wake you. I promise. Even if I don't like it." Sirius didn't get a response. Harry was fast asleep. With a smirk, Sirius pulled his wand and set up a little alarm for Harry. A nice cold bucket of water on his head a half-hour before lunch. With that done, Sirius changed to Padfoot and sneaked out the door using his paws to pull it open.

/ / / /

Remus itched. He burned, he hurt, he _wanted_. He growled at his empty room and nervously paced. He wasn't quite sure what he wanted, which was the problem. The wolf inside was clawing at him, demanding attention. Three more nights till the full moon and he was going mad. It was always the same. Everyone else assumed Remus was tired near the change. He snorted. How far from the truth that really was. He was tired of fighting the wolf, yes, but he _needed things_ – not sleep. Sometimes it was simply a desire to be outside, or more like a calling to be out among living things, to feel the wind and the earth. Sometimes it was like a pit of lava was boiling in his stomach, making him snap at anyone that came near. When he was teaching at Hogwarts, that was the worst. The effort it took to be _nice_ all the time had kept him exhausted, making people assume that he was ill. No, the impending change didn't wear him out, fighting it did. The change itself, the closer it got, made him feel exhilarated. Provided he heeded the wolf's desires – which he rarely did, hence his normal exhaustion. And at the moment, Remus was more than willing to give in, if only he could figure out what to give in _to_.

He glared at a pillow on his bed, and in a fit of self-directed rage, picked it up and ripped it to shreds, feathers going everywhere.

"Well, Moony, I see you're getting claustrophobic in your old age."

Remus stopped dead and refused to turn around. "Sirius?"

A book hitting him in the head finally made him turn. Standing just inside his door was Sirius Black. Remus groaned. He _so_ did not need this. Not now.

"Sirius," His voice was a low growl, "What are you doing here?"

Sirius smirked and shut the door the rest of the way and ran to jump on the bed like he had done to Harry's. "You know, I do have to give Malfoy this, the beds in this place are nice and springy." Sirius bounced a bit to illustrate the point than leaned back against the headboard. It was his favorite pose, one he'd picked up sometime in their second year and something he seemed to do with increasing frequency since his escape from Azkaban. He'd missed the simple comfort of pillows for twelve years and he wasn't about to waste an opportunity to enjoy them now that he was free.

Remus growled lowly again, "Sirius, you did not disobey Dumbledore and risk your life, _all_ our lives, to jump on a bed. Or at least tell me you didn't. There are times I think your stupidity would allow such an action."

Sirius' smile faded and he gave his friend a quick once over, taking in the still falling feathers once more along with his wild eyes and almost feral stance. "Remie, are you okay?"

"NO!" Remus almost screamed, "I'm not okay! I'm going insane, Sirius! This house, it's driving me mad. I'm _itching_ and I can't stop it. And Draco's always here; he's always being all…all _nice_. The boy's an inch away from me fucking him into the mattress and he doesn't notice, or more likely is _waiting_ for me, naked and playing with himself, as we speak." Remus took a shuddering breath and collapsed in a heap. "Get me out of here, Sirius. Get me out of here before I do something I'm not going to regret nearly as much as I ought to."

Sirius blinked. "Remus? Uhm, bring me up to speed here. You and Lucius' brat have something going on?"

Remus was still a blubbering mess on the floor, but he managed to somehow look up and glare. Sirius took the hint and shut up. The two wizards stared at each other for a moment before Sirius decided he really should try and comfort the werewolf. He crawled to the end of the bed and onto the floor, stopping right in front of the other man.

"Remus, come on, tell me what's wrong?"

"I cursed Harry." The voice was quiet. "I cursed Harry, I'm teaching two kids Illegal Curses and how to cast with Dark Magic, don't argue with me over the difference right now, I'm not in the mood." Remus sighed and took a deep breath. "To make it worse, I'm falling in love with a student, Sirius. Draco's been coming to me for advice all year, and…and recently he's been offering…he's been coming onto me. A lot. And…and I like it, Sirius. I mean, I really really really like it. And the Ministry, what they did, I can't stop thinking I'm not…but it doesn't help. I don't know what they did, but it sure as hell didn't effect me at all. I'm still as horny as hell the week before the full moon. I'm still catching myself starring at that blond head of hair and that cute little ass as he wiggles it at me…" Remus closed his eyes. Well, at least he'd figured out what the itching was all about. It had been a while since someone had peaked the wolf's interest, since Peter actually. That was something he hoped Harry never found out about…

"You cursed Harry?"

Remus rolled his eyes and groaned. "Is that all you heard?"

"You cursed Harry?"

"It was a drill, alright! It's the week of the moon, he was putting up a strong fight, and the wolf got a little freaked. He's fine. I'm feeling guilty enough as it is. I'm not use to throwing Cruciatus at my friend's children. You don't need to rub it in."

Remus didn't even see the pouch coming and it took all of his control not to attack Sirius after he'd picked himself up.

"You put my godson under an Unforgivable?" Sirius wailed. "You…you…you…"

Remus robbed his jaw and glared. "Okay, Sirius, I get how evil I am. Can we not fight about it right now? Go check on Harry. He's fine. It was only a moment. I hate to say it, but he's had worse. I'm in desperate need of my best friend, and since you're here, I could use you. So get off the soapbox and lend me a hand! I'm having a mental breakdown."

Sirius grunted and glared hard. "You…" he took a breath. "I already saw Harry. He's more than fine, except for this whole Dark Art's business. The boy can't do this, Remus." The Animagus paused and reviewed the last few minutes. "The moon's really affecting you, isn't it? You are never like this."

Remus growled for a third time and stood up to pace. "I'm loosing it, Sirius. I really am." He hunched his shoulders, wrapping his arms around himself in a tight embrace as he walked back and forth. The carpet was actually starting to show a path.

Sirius watched the brown-haired man carefully. Normally he looked downright ill around the full moon, but for some reason he looked more caged than anything. His eyes were darting around the room, taking in everything in a quick glance. His nostrils kept sniffing the air. It was a wonder Sirius had been able to sneak up on him at all – despite years of practice.

"So, what's causing the difference? Did Snape tinker with your potion?" Sirius asked carefully.

"No."

The Animagus sat back down on the bed and pondered. "What's wrong exactly? Is it just, what's his name? Draco?"

Remus sighed heavily and stopped pacing to drop gracelessly onto the floor. "Yes, and no. I don't know." He hung his head.

"Look, if you want my help, you've got to be totally open. How long have you been feeling, antsy?"

Remus took a shuddering breath. "Ever since the Ministry…"

Sirius winced. "Yeah, that would make me a bit jittery too."

Remus rolled his eyes. "It's not supposed to. It's supposed to make me more _docile_."

Sirius snorted. "You were docile. Now you're just really really pissed off." He smiled. "Okay, so you're feeling a little inadequate and…"

Remus cut him off by jumping up and pulling his wand. He backed his friend into he headboard and growled. "A little inadequate? Would you care for me to show you just how _inadequate_ they can make you feel with a single severing charm?"

Sirius gulped. "Remus…" He closed his eyes and grimaced. "Remus, I didn't mean anything. I was just being…"

"An insensitive, piss-arse, plonker?" Remus supplied helpfully, his wand still poking Sirius in the chest and his fingernails digging into the other man's arm.

Sirius nodded and slowly opened his eyes. "You're right, I'm a lousy no good jerk. Would you please not kill me? Or cut off parts of me that I'm rather fond of? Please?"

Remus snarled, but backed up, going to stand across the room and glare. His wand was still out and he was tapping it on his side, small red sparks shooting out. A long low steady growl was coming from his throat and he didn't seem to notice, or more likely didn't care.

"Remus, you need to calm down." Sirius was met only with an icy stare. "Okay, look, I'm not helping am I? Do you want to talk about it?"

The werewolf narrowed his eyes. "I was trying to talk, but some incredibly stupid wanker kept interrupting me with idiotic questions."

Sirius winced. Remus was pulling out not so polite names. This was bad. "Okay, we've established that I'm a poor excuse for a wizard. Can we get back to you now?"

Remus managed to stop growling, but he remained stiff and glaring. He did put his wand away, however. "I can't believe I made it through the school year. I thought I'd kill a few of the students at several different points in time." Remus gave a dark laugh. "Maybe I should have talked to Severus. He might have helped me hide Neville's body."

Sirius didn't really find that funny, but he kept silent.

"You know, I had actually hoped that what the Ministry did would make the changes easier."

"Why?" Sirius was confused.

Remus looked at him blankly for a moment than shrugged. "You never thought about it, did you? You never paid any attention to when Peter and I would go off…"

Sirius gave a shrug. "Not really. I mean, we were all off snogging whatever we could. We were kids. I just left you to it."

Remus managed a small smile that looked more like a grimace. "If you'd paid attention you'd have noticed that I only ever snuck off with him to, snog is a light word for it, ravish would work better. I only went off to thoroughly screw the little rat, the week before the full the moon."

Sirius' eyes went large. "I knew you and Peter were, experimenting, but you actually had sex with him!"

Remus rolled his eyes and banged his head against the wall. "What did you think experimenting would mean to a horny werewolf? We're not really all about foreplay and romantic get-to-know-you dinners. The closer to the change I get, the more the wolf wants out. It hurts not to let it have its way. And it likes to, mate. A lot." Remus looked back over his shoulder and caught the sick look on his friend's face. "Oh please. You tried to set me up with that bloody Hufflepuff and outed me to the whole bloody school. You had to know where that could have leaded to."

Sirius swallowed hard. "Yeah, well, I really tried not to think about it. So you, ah…"

"I fucked Peter." Remus' grin was feral. "Repeatedly. Once on your bed."

Sirius turned green. "On my bed…"

"We'd broken the slats on mine that morning. I wasn't really in a clear state of mind to fix it properly, and you know how lousy Peter was at that kind of thing. Yours was closer to the door than Peter's. It was a natural choice."

"You broke the slats!" Sirius' voice was weak. "Those beds are practically indestructible."

Remus gave a toothy grin. "I was a little rambunctious."

"Oh Merlin, I don't even want to think about it." Sirius blinked slowly. "So you like to … get laid… before the change."

Remus let the subject revert back to the issue at hand and nodded. "The wolf does. I really haven't let it out much since Peter." Remus sat down on the edge of the bed, a good yard away from his friend. "I didn't want to risk someone else finding out what I was. It was just safer to suffer in silence."

Sirius felt a pang of guilt for leaving his friend all alone those twelve long years. "Remus, I'm so sorry."

The werewolf sadly shook his head. "There wasn't anything you could do. Peter betrayed all of us. You more than anyone. I was just screwing the guy. I never really liked him much."

Sirius smiled a little at that and scudded down to sit closer. "Yeah, but you lost all your friends at once. And you had to hide who and what you were for so long. Then you get me back, but you still can't do anything about the sex thing."

Remus snorted. "Trust me, I'd gotten used to it until this." He waved a hand southward and fell back on the bed to stare at the ceiling. "What I want explained is why I'm suddenly sex obsessed when I'm bloody well lacking two very important not so little items." Remus put a hand over his eyes. "Severus so gleefully pointed out, oh so helpfully, that I'm more than capable of the act, mechanically. But I'm not totally without anatomical knowledge here. Loosing my balls should most defiantly _**not**_ boost my sex drive."

"Well, they say sex is mostly mental for women."

Remus cracked one eye open and glared. "I choose to believe that you did not just call me a woman. I would have to cause you serious pain if you had."

Sirius chuckled. "That's not what I meant. What I mean is, they don't have," Sirius paused, unwilling to say the word. He was already having sympathy pains. "They don't have _stuff_ either and they seem to have a libido. Maybe they're really not all that important, to, you know, be interested. And now that you're thinking about it again, you're brain's kicked the wolf into gear."

Remus sat up on his elbows and frowned. "So this is all in my head?" Sirius laughed. Remus glared. "The one on my shoulders, you childish imp."

Sirius smirked. "I find nothing wrong with being a bit childish. But seriously, you've gone over fifteen _years_ without a single lay? No wonder you're wanting to take the Malfoy kid up on his offer. Which is a bit weird. What's it like to have a Malfoy proposition you? And you've gone fifteen years!"

"So have you."

Sirius snorted. "What was the first thing I did when I escaped with Buckbeak? I disappeared to a nice warm tropical island with a whole pile of money I got out of Gringotts, amazing how those goblins could care less that there's a huge manhunt for you. I spent a nice long month without clothes, playing with smiling native women that couldn't speak a word of English, getting pissed every night, and generally having a wonderful time of it."

"That is sick." Remus looked thoroughly disgusted as he sat fully up. "Do you even remember their names?"

"Why should I?" Sirius didn't look repentant at all. "Besides, I don't even have to worry about it at all now. I'm bloody well famous! Fudge having to say my imprisonment was all a mistake, and my death-life thing is a real attraction to the ladies." Sirius wiggled his eyebrows and grinned. "You've gone fifteen years. Mate, you have will-power."

Remus hung his head. "No, its called self-preservation. Besides, my relationship with Peter wasn't normal for a werewolf."

Sirius cocked his head to the side. "Because he was male?"

Remus shook his head. "No, because, well…I was alpha." Sirius gave a questioning look. "Uhm, you want details?"

Sirius grimaced. "No, but I think I need to know them if I'm going to help you through this."

Remus slowly turned so he was facing Sirius, knee to knee, on the bed. "Okay, but once I start this, I'm not stopping. You'll have to suffer through." Sirius nodded reluctantly. "How to put this…I only, and I do mean only, topped with Peter."

Sirius blinked. "Why is that weird? I mean, you're a werewolf. You would be an, ah, alpha. Wouldn't you? I mean, I sure as hell wouldn't take it, you know where."

It was Remus' turn to grimace. "That's just it. Werewolves don't tend to be dominant in the bedroom. I didn't go fifteen years. I spent some time with other's that have lycanthropy. I figured a few things out."

Sirius reached a hand out to lay on Remus' shoulder. "They didn't hurt you did they?"

Remus smiled slightly and shook his head no. "No, they didn't. But I made friends with another gay werewolf. He'd been mistreated by his lover pretty badly. He showed up in this small colony hidden away in Germany. He had several broken bones and some major signs of long-term physical abuse – and you know how quickly and thoroughly we heal. We got to talking one night. He couldn't believe that I'd been the aggressor with Peter. It blew his mind. I did some investigation, as far as I can tell, almost all werewolves are submissive. Regardless of their preferences. We tend to get a bit demanding around the change, but we never seem to be the ones in charge." Remus looked down at the bed spread and played with a loose thread. "Not that you can't bottom and be in charge, but…we tend to pretty much take whatever our lovers dish out without question."

Sirius seemed pained. "So you are telling me that werewolves are all masochistic?"

Remus looked up and glared. "That's not what I'm saying. Bottoming doesn't mean you're masochistic for Merlin's sake! And neither does being submissive. I think this is something deeper. I'm talking survival instinct here."

"Can you clarify that a bit? I'm kind of slow on the uptake." Sirius asked.

Remus took another deep breath. "Think of it this way. Werewolves have been hunted for centuries, since before the split with the muggle world. To survive, we had to be very _very_ careful. We had to hide, but hide in plain view. There aren't many of us, and as ridiculous as the Ministry regulations today are, they're a far sight better than openly killing us. It wasn't until the second half of this century that we could even form any sort of community, even underground. It was too risky before."

"So this has to do with your sex life how?"

Remus rolled his eyes. "Try using your brain, Sirius. If werewolves couldn't mate with other werewolves, they'd have to do so with regular humans. And there are some things that are impossible to hide. It's hard enough to keep people from guessing what you are when you only live in their town. It's just not feasible to hide your lycanthropy from your lover. The bite mark is impossible to cover up, so is turning into a salivating beast three nights of the month. Your lover had to be completely trustworthy."

Remus fiddled with his nails in his lap. "It's a bit daunting to tell someone what you are. You know they could turn you in, kill you, or blackmail you. You can't be sure of anyone. It's scary. So when you do let someone in, you'd do anything to keep them."

Sirius drew in a sharp breath. "Is that why you were always letting James and I get away with tormenting Snivellus? You were afraid we'd turn on you? Let your secret out?"

Remus didn't look up but his silence was answer enough.

"Gods, Remie, we would never have done that to you!"

Remus shuddered as Sirius pulled him into another bone crushing hug. "I know," He felt tears and he tried to wipe them, but Sirius had him in too tight a hold. "I know. But I couldn't get past the fear, Sirius. It's preprogrammed into us, I guess." Sirius let him go enough that he could see Remus' face and brush off the tears. "I'm rarely aggressive in anything. Except for with Peter when we were, busy. And lately, I can't explain why the wolf is making me edgy and violent. I think I'm feeling trapped, cornered. And it's reacting to that."

Sirius finished smoothing away the moister on his friend's face and frowned. "So werewolves are somehow evolutionarily made to be meek and mild unless cornered?"

Remus pulled a bit further back and nodded. "At least that's my theory. There isn't exactly an instruction manual that comes with this." He rubbed at the bite scar on his left hip absently. "You know, I sort of feel better just talking about all of this."

Sirius nodded. "You've had a rough year. I can't believe Dumbledore asked you to come back, knowing what it would cost you."

Remus sighed. "The children needed a competent teacher. I'm the only qualified member of the Order that was able to take the post. He needed someone he could trust that would prepare the children for the coming war. I couldn't refuse."

Sirius let out his own sigh. "It's not just that. You lost me again, and not to sound arrogant, but that had to hurt." Remus grimaced and nodded. "Then I came back, but you didn't get to spend any time with me 'cause you were out doing things for the Order and I was busy with Harry. And then you get to the school and that Malfoy kid starts dumping all his problems on you and hitting on you pretty hard from the sounds of it. Then this whole thing with Hermione. I still can't believe you have a daughter. And now you're stuck here, she's at Hogwarts married to the git, and you're teaching Dark Arts." Sirius frowned. "And cursing Harry."

Remus' expression clouded. "About that. I don't think I'm going to be able to keep this up. When I went through the classes for DADA training, I did the illegal curses and all that, but I wasn't so on edge. You and James were still around and I wasn't nearly as jaded back then. Now, now I think the wolf is getting closer and closer to the surface the more I'm around Dark Magic and the more cynical I get. I told Harry it was naturally a part of me, because of the wolf. But I'm not sure I can maintain my level of control if I have to let the beast out to cast."

"So stop doing illegal magic." Sirius seemed to think that was the solution to all the world's problems.

Remus rolled his eyes. "Not this again. It's not the illegal spells that worry me. It's the temptation to use the darker half of my nature, the wolf, to do magic. I keep telling Harry to use his negative emotions, but how can I expect a kid to so when I can't?"

Sirius sighed. "I just had this argument with Harry. And he's come to a conclusion."

"What conclusion?"

"That I can't do this either." Harry's voice drifted from the doorway. Both wizards turned to watch the sleepy eyed boy totter into the room. They made space on the bed for him and the boy collapsed between the two. "I couldn't sleep. And thanks for the charm. I disabled it." Harry spoke half-heartedly to Sirius over his shoulder as he lay facing the werewolf.

"How long were you standing there?" Remus asked, concerned about how much the child had heard.

Harry shook his head slightly. "Not long. I thought I might find Sirius here and there was something I wanted to ask him. It can wait. We need to talk, Remus."

The werewolf nodded. "Alright. Talk."

Harry sighed and Sirius patted him on the shoulder. "I'm not going to keep trying to use Dark Magic." Remus started. "If I do, I'm going to become what I fight. I still need to learn the illegal curses, but I don't see any reason to use Cruciatus or Obliviate, so there is no need for me to learn to cast with Dark Magic instead of Light."

"But Harry, no one uses just Light Magic." Remus said softly. "You'll be ill prepared in a duel. You need to be able to cast no matter your emotions."

Harry pulled himself up a bit and leaned against the headboard like Sirius had earlier. "That's just it. Lucius said that the Killing Curse, and all the other curses, would work so long as I had a strong enough desire for them to do so and a strong enough emotion behind them. I just refuse to take the easy road and go with Darker motivations. I'll not become like Him. I can't, not if we want to really win this." Harry sighed and his eyes hardened into a cold, clear green. "This isn't just about Voldemort or purebloods. This is a deeper fight. Sirius, I know you don't believe that Dark and Light Magic are dependent on the wizard, but they are, and Dark Arts is not Dark Magic. And that's what this war is about. Stupid laws and stupid prejudices combining to make hate. And hate is the largest fuel for that Darkness. It's like Dark Magic is sentient, and it's manipulating everyone into using it. Voldemort kills for hate, and for that, we hate Him back. It doesn't solve anything. It can only turn us into one large black hole for joy and Light. I won't let that happen."

"How can you stop it?" Sirius asked quietly.

"Tom Riddle was once a boy. A small, tormented little orphan boy whose own father abandoned Him out of hatred. The man He is today would never have been without that first act of hate. I chose not to continue. I chose not to hate Tom Riddle. I will not perpetuate the cycle." Harry's voice was determined.

"Is it that simple? Can you just make that choice and stop?" Remus' voice was as soft as Sirius'. "After all He's done to you. To all of us."

"Nothing worth doing is ever simple or easy." Harry looked at the two wizards closely. "If something is easy, than you either aren't doing it right, or you've missed something. It would be easy to go after my enemies with hate in my heart and my wand. And I could destroy them. I think I really could. Lucius said my spell was equal to the Dark Lord already and I've not even reached my full magical strength yet. In a few months when I do finally hit that last magical growth spurt, Voldemort doesn't really stand a chance if I fuel my curses with Dark Magic. But it would be easy. I'm not saying I'll not use the Killing Curse, I'm only saying I'll not use it out of hate."

The other two remained silent. It made sense. It was admirable. But in the end, would they all pay the price for such ideals? And when had the Boy-Who-Lived become so wise? Remus looked at him. The child had somehow managed to grow up over night. But than again, there was a different kind of war going on in those emerald eyes. Harry was saying all of this, but he was still trying to convince himself. You could see the doubt lurking there. Remus thought it reminded him of the wolf inside himself. The doubt was pushing and demanding things of Harry. And the boy was fighting it, clinging to his new bright ideal that he'd somehow pulled out of the nothingness.

"Where did this come from?" Remus asked quietly. "Where did you get this idea not to hate Him?"

Harry closed his eyes and leaned back. "Love thine enemy. I've never been religious. I think it's all just another excuse to argue over something none of us can possibly be entirely correct about anyway, but sometimes, all we have is faith." Harry cracked an eye open. "I have to have faith that this is right. Because if it's not, it could cost all of you your lives. But for once, I have to do something for myself. I have to take this chance because if I don't, another little kid is going to end up having to fight another stupid war over semantics. That's all this is about after all. Pureblood, mudblood. They're just words. Words only have power if we give in to them. Light, Dark, muggle, wizard, Gryffindor, Slytherin. They're just words. Distinctions we choose to see. I've been thinking a lot this last year." Harry opened both eyes and sat up straighter, his fatigue vanishing.

"I've been searching my soul, I guess you could say. These last few days here at the Manor, I'd let myself forget about some of the lessons I'd learned when I was little. I made a promise to myself one night when it was cold in my cupboard. I was watching this small little spider build a web in the crack of light that slid under the door from Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon's telly. I had hated them for locking me up and not letting me be a part of their warmth, their light. And I'd almost killed that spider because of the way I felt about them.

"But I stopped just in time. I stopped because that little spider didn't deserve to die just because someone else had denied me something. Just because I wasn't getting what I felt I should have. I promised myself that night that I would never take something of someone else's just because I was upset. I had no right to deny another just because I did without.

"Riddle never learned the lesson. He never thought to make such a promise. He kills because He was never understood, never loved. He wants to take away everyone else's happiness because He can't be happy. He doesn't deserve my hate for that, He deserves my pity. His whole life is a waste. Nothing He has done will withstand time. All He accomplishes will be washed away because it was built on a foundation of Darkness. And Darkness can never survive in the Light. His whole stay on this earth will in the end be meaningless.

"I choose to make my time here mean something. Light never goes away. It travels on forever. So I chose to shine a light into _His_ Darkness, to teach others to make a conscious effort to do the same. I chose to let my Light fight for me. If I tried to fight Darkness with Darkness, I would only feed it. A negative added to a negative only makes a larger negative. But a positive, however small, can take you that much closer to actually having something. This is my choice. This is how I choose to fight. I've had enough of Albus Dumbledore's plans for me, the Order's plans for me, Voldemort's plans for me. This is my plan. I will not give into the Darkness, whether it be mine or His." Harry clenched his hand into a fist, making his vow to himself as he said it.

Remus was floored, and Sirius too by the look of things. "How?" He didn't even know how to ask. What Harry had just said, he'd never heard anything like it voiced in the wizarding world. He remembered a few things he'd read about in the muggle world, marches to the sea for salt, sit-ins in America, demonstrations in China. Harry sounded like he was ready to become one of those muggle martyrs. He sounded like he wasn't going to fight a kind of fight that Remus understood. Harry was changing the battlefield.

In the wizarding world, pacifism had yet to be developed. Justice was swift and harsh. It had to be when every single adult had the ability to kill with two simple words. Honor codes existed, but like all things, they were so easy to twist and manipulate. Defense classes in schools really were important. A wizard or witch, wizards especially, would never live long enough to breed and have families if they were unable to defend themselves. Violence was a part of everyday life. The distinction between Dark and Light that Sirius and Remus had spent so long arguing over, that had divided the wizarding world, was really academic. No one got through life without using Dark Magic occasionally. You got irritated at your children and suddenly your dishwashing spell is Dark. It was that simple.

What Harry was suggesting was essentially to re-write a way of life. To do what he wanted to do, Harry Potter would have to convince a whole society that illegal did not mean Dark, that magic wasn't something you could do without thought, and that the squabbles that had been forged since childhood – house and family rivalries - would have to be forgotten. Harry wasn't talking about winning a war with Voldemort; he was talking about becoming a prophet the size of Merlin. Remus and Sirius made eye contact. Goddess help them, perhaps the boy just might be their savior in more ways than one. If he succeeded, maybe they would never have to face another Dark Lord. And the green eyed child had no idea that what he'd just said was revolutionary. With all the innocence of the ignorant, he simply said what he believed in his heart.

Harry sat there silently. His green eyes far away as he contemplated the choice he had just made. He could tell from Sirius and Remus' reactions that what he'd just said was hard for them to grasp. He watched as the two silently communicated with looks, like he and Ron tended to do whenever Hermione was doing something beyond them. It wasn't that crazy. Harry was sure it was possible. It had to be possible. Failure was not going to be an option.

Harry thought back to everything that had happened to him over the years. First the Dursleys. Then Hogwarts and the Dark Lord. The Slytherin-Gryffindor rivalries, and Umbridge. Anger never seemed to get him anywhere. It certainly didn't make the Dursleys house feel like a home. It didn't make Voldemort go away. It hadn't been what made him and Draco friends – at least he thought they were friends, the blond might feel differently. Anger hadn't even made Umbridge any more tolerable. In fact, the angrier Harry got with her, the more pleased she became. So if anger hadn't gotten him anywhere yet, how logical would it be to think it would get him anywhere in the future?

Harry broke the silence by clearing his throat and starting to get off the bed. "I need to go find Draco. He needs to know what I just decided. If I'm dropping out of the Dark Magic lessons, he should know. I don't think it's a good idea for any of us to continue them. It hurts Lucius to much and it doesn't do us any good either."

Sirius snorted. "Hurts Lucius Malfoy? I think you're projecting your problems onto him."

Harry sadly shook his head no as he climbed down. "Trust me. That man might seem like a cold-hearted egomaniac, but there's more there. He's not happy being a Death Eater." Harry sagged into a chair by the fireplace. "I saw the last meeting." Sirius' eyes grew large. "I saw what he did and I thought for a while he was worse than Voldemort." Harry raised a hand to stop their questions. "You don't need to know what happened. It was horrible. Let's just put it that way. And the Dark Lord got a little too much personal enjoyment from it. But when Lucius got home, he was a mess. He, he was one step away from being like the Longbottoms, without the benefit of Cruciatus. He was in agony. He can't keep this up. I don't know how Snape did it, but Lucius can't. He's going insane, little by little. Teaching us to become what he wants to desperately escape from isn't helping. He's trying to claw his own way out of the inky blackness of a world built on hate, and at the same time he has accepted to help us fall into it."

Remus nodded. "I've been watching him, Sirius. He's not what we thought he was. I think he joined the Death Eaters simply as a way to survive. I have a feeling his father was like your mother. And Lucius never had friends like James Potter and his parents that could or would put him up indefinitely. Severus was Lucius' closest friend growing up – you remember how close they were before Lucius graduated. Severus had a horrible home life himself. He couldn't take in Lucius. And besides, the Malfoy family had enough pull to keep Lucius from ever leaving. The Blacks might have been an old pureblood Dark family too, but they never had the political connections of the Malfoys. If Lucius had tried to leave as a child, the Ministry would have dragged him back here in a heartbeat. He didn't have any choice."

Sirius growled. "Don't talk to me about choices. The Black family had connections, Remus. I simply took the chance and left."

Remus shook his head. "You don't remember it, do you? Think on it, Sirius. You left home at the end of your fifth year. You hardly set foot in that house after that. You stayed with James and his parents. Can't you remember all the Floo calls between Dumbledore and the Potter's? When I was cleaning out Godric's Hollow after, after the attack, I found the paperwork. They actually had to go to court to be allowed to keep you. It almost came down to a duel between James' father and your mother. The Ministry almost arrested the Potters for harboring a run-away. It was all Dumbledore could do to keep them out of jail or away from an all all-out bloodbath with your family." Remus got up and started pacing again. "I remember it, Sirius. It was horrible. Do you really think Dumbledore would have, or even could have, backed Lucius like that? Do you think there was one family out there that would have fought for Lucius like the Potter's did for you?"

"They fought for me?" Sirius asked, amazed. He'd never realized that the Potter family had done anything other than give him a room and some food. James had never mentioned it. Dumbledore had never let on that his 'running away' had been a problem. Sirius looked guilty. "I had no idea." He looked at Harry. "I really didn't. I just thought your grandparents were really nice. I didn't think I'd put them in danger."

Remus sighed heavily and stopped in front of Harry, making eye contact. "James' parents were in the Order too. They died the week before graduation." He turned to look at Sirius. "Did it never occur to you there might have been a connection?"

Sirius blinked. "A connection?"

Remus nodded solemnly. "Your brother was a Death Eater. What are the chances he was the only Black? There was Bellatrix as well, and a few more we know about. What did the Potters do to become a target? Think about it. They weren't Aurors, and James hadn't finished school let alone Auror training. No one knew they were in the Order outside of Dumbledore and the Weasleys. What could have made them worth the effort?"

"They were killed because I went to them for help?" Sirius' eyes were as round as dinner plates. "I got them killed? And James never said a word?"

Harry quietly spoke up. "Why would he? You needed help and they gave it. You were a kid, Sirius. You went to the adults and they did what adults are supposed to do. You were lucky you were in Gryffindor and that people were willing to believe the best in you. And my grandparent's would have known the risk. They thought getting you out of that house was worth it. But would they have done the same thing for a kid from Slytherin? A kid whose only friends were all from Dark families? A kid who was already cold and aloof because he had to be? I don't even have to have met them to know they wouldn't have even given it a second's thought. They'd have slammed the door in his face and called the Aurors to drag him home."

Sirius closed his eyes and shuddered. "You really think Lucius wanted out?" He opened his eyes and scanned the two faces in front of him. Remus and Harry nodded and Sirius shuddered again. "I really haven't got a clue, do I?"

Harry sighed and went to sit back down next to his godfather. "You spent some important years in a hellish prison, Sirius. It can only be expected that Remus would have had time to think a few things through that you haven't."

Sirius snorted. "Remus was like this when he was eleven. And you are just a kid. How come both of you are ten times smarter than me?"

"You're not stupid." Remus sat down on the other side of the Animagus. "You just have to get over this idea that Gryffindor means good and Slytherin bad. Nothing in life is just black or white."

"Riddle was in Ravenclaw." The two turned and looked at Harry. "When I fought his sixteen year old self in the Chamber of Secrets, he had on a Ravenclaw robe. The Dark Lord, the heir of Slytherin, wasn't even in that house. Lucius isn't bad because of birth, or house, or even choice. He did what he had to, to survive. And now he has to live with the consequences. And he wants to atone for his mistakes. You have to give him that chance." Harry stood up. "Now, I was on my way to talk to Draco. I suggest that you stay here, Sirius. I really meant what I said about not exploring this place. You could get into to trouble. And Lucius isn't likely to be very nice about bailing you out."

Remus smiled slightly. "Speaking of our instructor extraordinaire, I think I need to go tell him about the change in the curriculum." Remus gave a toothy grin. "He might be trying to get over his mistakes, but he's not ready to admit to us that he's ever made any. He might not want to teach Dark Magic, but he's going to put up a bit of fight about it on the principle of the matter regardless." Remus' grin widened. "Plus, the wolf could use a little play time."

Harry smirked. "Just make sure he's in one piece for the theoretical lesson. After all, I'm not backing out of the fight, just changing the rules. I'll meet you downstairs in the dining room for lunch."

Harry left and Remus stared at Sirius for a moment. The man was still trying to grasp all that had happened in the last few hours. "Look Sirius, you can't blame yourself for the Potters. And they wouldn't want that."

"How could I not have seen it?" Sirius let a single tear fall. "I took his parent's away, and James never even blamed me."

"James Potter had many layers. And no matter what else can be said for him, he was brave and he always knew that sacrifices were important. He never said anything because he believed, as I believe, that you have something to give back to the world, Sirius. Something that makes all of it worth while." Remus patted him on the shoulder and stood up. "Now, you stay here and try and take a nap or something. I'll bring you some food from the house-elves after the lesson. I need to go talk to Lucius and give him the good news."

"It is good, right?"

Remus nodded gravely. "Yes Sirius. It is good." He grinned suddenly, mischief shining in his eyes. "Risky, but since when have the Marauders backed away from a challenge?"

/ / / /

Remus couldn't help thinking this latest scheme should have been the first time the Marauders backed down. What Harry proposed was dangerous. If the boy couldn't or wouldn't cast the spells necessary to send Voldemort to Hell, they would all suffer a terrible price for his convictions. But a part of Remus was so proud of the boy it couldn't think straight. This was monumental. If Harry could convince the Wizarding World that Dark Magic and the Dark Arts were different, if the centuries old argument could be ended, than there was a real chance that there wouldn't be anymore Dark Lords. And maybe, just maybe, people would begin to understand that Dark Creatures, like werewolves, weren't inherently evil. Maybe Hermione could live her life free of fear someday. But that battle would have to come later.

The real fight, the unending eternal battle, wasn't about werewolves or Slytherins or Purebloods. It was about a slippery slope. It just so happened that Slytherins saw the slope and Gryffindors tended to ignore it. Then Slytherins had the nasty habit of deciding to take a fast ride down the slope anyway. And Gryffindors never even noticed when they fell down the same hill. After all, it really was so much simpler to think of the world as innately good or bad instead of all a matter of choice and all multitudes of gray. Sirius, for instance, thought you either were one or the other, Light or Dark. He saw no in-between.

Remus thought that was just a bit too convenient. And the terrible part was, so did the Death Eaters. That's how Voldemort recruited the majority of them. He told them that Dark Magic was real. He told them how powerful it was and how much faster they could master it. And He offered to teach them forbidden magic, illegal magic, things the Ministry had deemed improper and dangerous. The sort of things all adventurous, ambitious, young people salivated over. So they went. And once they had learned, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named gave them a convenient and relatively powerless target to practice their new found knowledge on– muggleborns.

Discriminated on by law, shunned by society, and excluded from Slytherin House, muggleborns were the perfect scapegoat for all the problems of the Wizarding World. They, muggleborns, were mysterious, rather inclusive, and different. Yet despite their easy acceptance of blatant prejudice and scapegoating, the Death Eaters were simply deluded idealists. They knew there were problems in the world and they wanted to fix them. The hitch was that the only person they had been able to find that could harness that idealism did so for evil. And none of the problems seemed to get any better, so they tried harder than ever to eradicate the perceived threat. Voldemort took young, curious, and magically talented wizards and made them into monsters by giving them a cause to champion, something to strive for in a world with very little to stimulate them beyond the need for daily survival and the continuation of bloodlines.

If Harry succeeded, the next generation might not have to sulk about in dark corners to learn what they wanted to. They wouldn't have to consort with lost souls for scraps of information. And the cause these young bored people yearned for could take on a real problem instead of chasing phantoms. Harry could cast a light into the illegal world and pull it into the public eye, changing centuries of censorship and blind, cruel justice. He could give a purpose to people who only had a drive and not a direction.

And the likes of Sirius Black would go kicking and screaming.

It really wasn't Sirius' fault, at least not as far as Remus was concerned. Sirius saw the world the way he did because he had to. Coming from the home life he did, it was a defense mechanism. Bad people were born bad. Good people were born good. Sirius honestly thought he'd been born different from his family. He couldn't accept the fact that he'd only become different by choice, because that meant he might someday make a wrong decision and end up just like his mother. For Sirius, the world had to be black or white because for it to exist any other way meant he was responsible for his actions. Heaven forbid. Hypocrisy, thy name is Sirius.

Remus sighed and shook his head as he approached the Malfoy study. Sirius was a handful. He always had been and he always would be. For a moment, Remus truly missed Peter. He missed his quiet presence and his meek expectance. He missed not being challenged. Whatever had changed Peter had come suddenly, and Remus blamed himself for not seeing it. Not because of Lily and James' death, but because poor little Peter had brought only pain onto himself. His betrayal had cost four lives, two in death, one in prison, and one in unending purgatory and chains.

The werewolf reached his destination and knocked before entering the study. Lucius took one look at his expression and handed him a drink. It was odd, really, how well the two had gotten along – minus an animal joke or four. Remus took the glass in careful hands and sat down in his still present cozy chair. He looked into the amber liquid and gave a detailed, if reluctant, recount of Harry's decision.

Lucius listened quietly and motioned for Remus to go on whenever there was a pause. When Remus finally ended, Lucius spoke. "So, the boy wonder wants to make people see that they, not the spell, are responsible for evil in the world." Lucius smirked and tapped his wand idly on the edge of his desk. "An admirable goal. One I've heard before."

Remus' head shot up.

"Oh yes, Lupin. I've heard it before." Lucius stood up and went to glare into the fire place. "That was the goal of Grindelwald. Something he never let out beyond his inner most council and something I only know because of careful eavesdropping as a child." Remus made to speak but Lucius motioned for him to stay silent. "Harry thinks he can do this?" He shook his head. "Grindelwald tried to convince the world through exposing Dark Magic, using it exclusively. Harry wants to try it the other way around." Lucius looked back at the DADA professor. "Do you think he can do it?"

Remus took a long drink and frowned. "Can he use just Light Magic?" His frown grew steadily deeper. "He thinks he can. And…" Remus looked up. "I think he might be able to. Lily was stubborn beyond belief, and Harry is quite a bit like her. But as for convincing the Wizarding World that they control whether a spell is Light or Dark instead of the spell itself, that I have my doubts about. The debate has split our world for longer than recorded history. People don't want to think that they have the potential to become like Voldemort or Morgana. They resist the mere implication. How can one boy change all that? Boy-Who-Lived or not."

Lucius sighed and sat back down himself. "I don't know. But I suppose we have to try."

Remus snorted. "We don't _have_ to do anything."

Lucius laughed outright. "How have we managed to switch roles? Shouldn't you be the hopeless optimist?"

Remus glared at his drink. "Talk to me in a week. This time of month the only thing I can muster is annoyance, anger, and a good dose of cynicism."

"Lupin, Lupin, Lupin." Lucius gave a feral grin. "Your excuses aren't going to work on me. Hermione and Severus will be arriving in two days. You have to be excited about that."

Remus glared. "If you think a transformation is anything to be excited about, I'll be more than happy to bite you and let you experience it for yourself."

Lucius' smile didn't falter. "Idle threat, Lupin. You wouldn't want to risk bringing the Ministry down on your daughter and yourself. Now, I want to make sure that all necessary arrangements have been made for this weekend. I don't want you or Hermione getting injured. It's her first transformation and unless I'm mistaken, the Wolfsbane Potion can have differing effects depending on the individual."

Remus huffed and nodded. "It does. We should be fine outdoors. If you and the others stay inside there won't be a risk to your health. I'd suggest confining us inside, but the wolf _hates_ being locked up. It will make it easier on Hermione if we can run."

Lucius nodded. "I'll make sure to keep Draco inside. Will the mutt upstairs be running with you?" Lucius asked so casually it took a moment for Remus to realize the implication of his words.

"Ah, what mutt?" Remus tried to look casual and innocent. He managed to achieve shifty.

Lucius simply snapped his fingers and with a shriek, Sirius landed on his desk. Lucius raised an elegant eyebrow as the Animagus scrambled off the large piece of furniture to land in an undignified heap on the floor. "That mutt."

"Remus?" Sirius squeaked as he stood up. "What's going on?" He looked around and caught sight of Lucius. "Malfoy."

"Oh do be quiet, Black. I was talking to the werewolf." Lucius summoned Draco's bench and motioned for Sirius to take a seat. "Really, do you think I'm stupid enough to alter my wards to the point you could sneak in? I've known you were here the moment you got within a mile of the property."

Remus and Sirius eyed each other carefully and Lucius rolled his eyes. "If I'd wanted to hurt you, you'd be dead, Black. Relax. I think Lupin here could use a friendly face and Merlin knows Potter must miss you. Why, I can't fathom, but there _is_ no accounting for taste."

Sirius growled low and Remus elbowed him.

"Now, here is how this is going to work." Lucius pulled out a quill and parchment. "I'm canceling lessons for today. I need time to plan the changes to the curriculum if Harry is going to stick with the pure Light idea." He scribbled a note on the parchment, duplicated it, and sent one copy off to each boy. "This might actually prove to be our saving grace. The Dark Lord will never suspect this tactic. It could well give us the element of surprise."

Lucius stood and handed Sirius a drink to match his own and Lupin's. Sirius sniffed it suspiciously and only took a drink after Remus did.

"As for your staying here, I couldn't care less. The house is large enough I can avoid your malodorous presence. But I'm sure the headmaster will be disappointed to find you've disobeyed orders. I would make sure you are gone by the time he arrives with Hermione and Severus Friday night. Besides, I just got Parkinson's blood out of the marble in the entryway and I don't want you and Severus spilling anymore."

Remus chuckled and Sirius glared at him. "You have to admit, Sirius, you and Severus still don't get along so well. It was just two Christmases ago that Harry had to keep you two from killing each other at Headquarters."

"He started it." Sirius grumbled.

Lucius sighed in exasperation. "It's like having a house full of children. Draco whines less." Sirius growled again and Lucius shook his head. "Get out of my study, Black. I really am not in the mood. And Lupin, make sure he doesn't break anything."

Remus pulled Sirius out of the room with difficulty and headed back upstairs. The Animagus was muttering threats and curses all the way up and Remus couldn't help but think it was funny. Lucius was really being quite considerate letting Sirius inside the Manor at all. And the way the man took the news about Harry's epiphany was a pleasant surprise. Remus smiled as he pushed Sirius into his room. There was a lot about the Malfoys that could surprise you.

/ / / /

Harry left Remus and Sirius with a small amount of trepidation. Remus seemed to be a bit off, and Sirius was unpredictable at best. All in all, Harry wasn't entirely comfortable with the situation. And he sincerely hoped Remus would be able to convince Lucius that this was the right course of action. Harry crossed the hall and knocked on Draco's door. Now all he had to do was convince Draco of the same thing.

The blond opened the door, his hair slightly disheveled and his robes just a bit rumbled. Harry raised an eyebrow and Draco pulled him bodily into the room by the front of the robes. Harry gasped in protest and just barely managed to stay on his feet. "What are you doing?"

Draco glared and put his fingers to his lips asking for silence. He calmly drew out parchment and wrote 'Someone's crossed the wards, I can feel it.' Draco's eyes darted around the room in suspicion. He quickly finished his note. 'They might be listening to us right now.'

"Draco, they can't listen if we don't say anything. Put the damn parchment away. This is ridiculous!" Harry rolled his eyes and slapped the quill out of his counterpart's hand. "I have a fair idea who broke through and I guarantee he won't cause too much damage and he doesn't pose a threat. I think."

Draco didn't seem to be convinced. He pulled his wand and backed Harry into the wall. "How do I know you're really Potter?"

"For Merlin's sake, Malfoy!" Harry huffed as the wand poked him in the chest. "You're giving me piano lessons, alright! Who else knows that?"

Draco narrowed his eyes. "You could have tortured Harry for that information."

Harry's eyes grew to saucers. Malfoy had finally lost it. The boy was beyond paranoid. Mad-eye could take a lesson or two from this one. "Draco, listen to me. I've survived torture before without breaking. And what makes you think anybody else would care enough to force me to reveal a fucking piano lesson?"

Draco thought about it for a moment before reluctantly nodding and backing away slightly. "If that's true, who set off the wards? Father told me not to worry about it and to stay in here just in case. What's going on?"

Harry briefly sent a prayer that Sirius wouldn't face too angry a Lucius and started in on his explanation of the morning's activities. Draco listened intently and seemed genuinely startled but interested in the new direction their studies would be taking.

"So we are going to try and think happy thoughts the next time we send a bunny to the after life?"

Harry groaned. "Is that all you have to say?"

Draco smirked. "No, but it seemed a good place to start. So how long are you going to give this theory a try before you concede defeat?"

Harry snorted. "I'm a Gryffindor, remember? We never concede defeat."

"I was afraid of that." Draco motioned Harry to have a seat on one of the leather couches. He looked at the clock and summoned a house-elf to bring them lunch and to inform everyone where they were. Harry mumbled his thanks before he hungrily dug into the mountain of food. He'd apologize for skipping out on Remus later.

"Sweet Merlin, Potter, what did you do to work up such an appetite?" Draco watched in awe as Harry systematically attacked his plate.

Between mouthfuls, Harry tried to write off his behavior as normal teenage metabolism and the skipped breakfast.

"I'll buy that one when Voldie walks in here wearing a large maroon dress and a matching handbag. Now what are you up to?" Draco demanded in a stern voice.

Harry debated another lie, than thought better of it. So far Draco had proven to be an okay sort, once you got past the inborn arrogance and continuous insults. And he really did seem to have a genuine interest in Remus. It might be a good idea to help him along a bit.

"Uhm, you have to promise not to tell. Anyone. Not even Remus." Draco leaned forward, eyes alight with mischief and Harry gulped.

"Out with it Potter."

"I…I ah…I managed my Animagus transformation."

Draco stayed leaning forward and blinked. "You're an Animagus? At sixteen? That's unheard of."

"Father managed it by fifteen, so did Sirius and Pettigrew." Harry defended himself with a mild amount of indignation.

"But Harry, they were legends, _are_ legends. The famous Marauders. Don't ask how I know, you'd only get upset." Draco shook his head and grinned. Remus had told him all about the Marauders over the last year. "You have _got_ to teach me."

Harry smirked. "Oh, I don't know, Draco. Are you sure you can do it? Being sixteen and all."

Draco scowled. "You owe me for the piano lessons."

"Magical self-transfiguration is a bit beyond piano lessons."

"You want to shag my father."

"You want to shag my pseudo-godfather."

The two boys sat glaring before Harry burst into laughter. "Okay, I'll do it. I wouldn't have mentioned it if I wasn't ready to."

Draco looked murderous. "I suppose Weasley has already managed it as well."

Harry shook his head. "Ron doesn't have a clue I even started this. Only Sirius and you know and Sirius only found out when he showed up this morning."

Draco seemed to think about it for a moment before the gleam came back to his eyes. "You do realize how much fun we can have next year at Hogwarts with this?"

Harry grinned. "An inter-house alliance for the cause of good natured mayhem?"

"Does it have to be good natured?"

Harry nodded.

"Damn. But something is better than nothing." Draco smirked even harder and extended his hand. "Here's to the Marauders x 2. May we be a far sight better and a vast amount sneakier than the last."

"Here here." Harry shook on it and pulled Draco to his feet. "Now, before I give you my journal and books to start with, I have a slight favor to ask."

Draco groaned. "How did I know I was selling my soul? For the second time, and to a bloody Parselmouth again."

"Please, I just need you to run a slight errand for me. I think it would be safer if you did it than if I went out into muggle London. We need the sheet music for that song your father keeps playing."

Draco went pale and his mouth opened and closed. "I have no idea about muggle London. I can't go there."

"Why not?"

Draco positively trembled for a second before drawing himself up and angrily pushing his robe sleeve up. "Look at it, Potter. Look at the ugly skull and snake. This isn't a tattoo, this makes all the difference. I can't just walk through the Leaky Cauldron and into London unseen. It'll be back to the Dark Lord in under a minute. Death Eaters only go into London to kill, not to shop."

Harry stared at the Mark. He'd seen it before, in visions and on Snape's arm in his fourth year. But even though he'd known it was there, he'd never really thought about it on Draco. It seemed extra wrong to see such a mark of evil on someone he was beginning to see as a friend, someone his own age. Someone who should by all rights be more concerned with quidditch and girls (or boys as the case may be) than whether a Dark Lord would punish them for an impromptu shopping trip.

"I'm …sorry, Draco. I didn't think about that." Harry apologized softly and Draco backed away.

"That's your problem, Potter. You don't think." Draco rolled his sleeve down. "I'll get your damned sheet music, but I'm not going into London. I'll owl Blaise and have him pick it up for me and send it back. He knows enough not to ask questions, and it wouldn't be the first time he's done something like this for me."

"He won't tell?" Harry asked skeptically.

Draco smiled. "Blaise likes the muggle world and doesn't hide it. I pay him well to fetch things for me, as does most of Slytherin house. We tolerate his hobby because it means we can get our hands on stuff we normally wouldn't be able to. It's amazing what muggles will allow pictures to be taken of. Have you seen some of their magazines!"

Harry laughed. "I should have known." Harry saw Draco visibly relax and his breathing even out. There was more to this. "What aren't you telling me? There's another reason you don't want to go into London, isn't there?"

Draco turned away. "Of course not."

"Oh yes there is." Harry gleefully chuckled. "Come on, what is it?"

Draco turned around and looked Harry in the eye, daring him to keep laughing. "The metro."

Harry blinked. "What about it?"

"It is full of Muggles." Draco shivered. "Small, cramped, and confined. It goes so fast and there's no way out. It's mostly underground. And Harry, there are Muggles. And they touch you. They cram in all around you…." Draco looked ill.

Harry tried not to laugh. "You're scared of _Muggles_?"

Draco rose up to his full height. "I'm not scared of them, I just don't want them touching me."

Harry rolled his eyes. "And I had such high hopes for you."

"Would it help to say I wouldn't want to be on one of those cars with that many unwashed wizards either?"

"Not really."

Draco shrugged. "Well, it's true. Muggles are odd; you have to give them that. They smell weird, all synthetic. And their clothing is so skimpy and bizarre. I'm sure you wouldn't like to be dropped off in the middle of some country where you hardly understood the language. For most purebloods, that is what the muggle world is like. There are very _very_ few of us who can stand to take wizard public transportation let alone muggle. The fact that I've been on the metro once is amazing."

Harry had to admit that was probably true. Weird, but true. He'd never really thought about how scary the muggle world must seem to those who never grew up in it. After all, the wizarding world consistently scared the shit out of him. It was only fair if it went both ways.

Harry was still silently contemplating this as Draco wrote out the note to Blaise. Just as the owl carried off the bag of money and parchment, two identical notes popped into the air in front of their noses and fell to the ground. The boys looked at each other before picking up the letters and reading them.

"So we don't have lessons today." Draco was smirking.

Harry carefully folded the letter and tucked it into this pocket. It was the first time he'd gotten to see Lucius' handwriting. "It would appear that way." Harry sighed as Draco's smirked turned deadly. "What are we doing then?"

"What makes you think we're doing anything?" Draco asked innocently.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Your face. Gods, Malfoy, if you smirk that hard every time you're up to something you're libel to make you face stick like that. Not that many people would notice the difference."

Draco snorted and shrugged. "Fine. Be that way. I had thought I'd give you a quick piano lesson and then we could start looking for the wand chamber. But if you insist on insulting me, I'll just stay here and do some of my homework. The door's behind you." Draco went around the sofa and moved off towards a desk hidden in the corner.

"Oh, all right! Gheesh, Draco, you have to make everything difficult." Harry stood up and sighed as a now maniacally happy Draco grabbed him by the arm and pulled him down the hallway. They stopped briefly outside Remus' rooms to listen to the yelling. It seemed Sirius wasn't happy that Lucius knew he was here. Draco gave a questioning look to Harry who shrugged. Yelling and Sirius went together naturally.

The boys made it to the music room and Draco proceeded to walk Harry through another lesson. They had made sure the door was closed so Lucius wouldn't hear them first, however. Begrudgingly, Draco admitted that Harry seemed to have some natural ability. He'd gotten the hang of the C scale in only two lessons. Despite that, they didn't stay too long in the music room. The temptation to hunt for the missing wand chamber was too much for them.

They ended up spending tea time in the library scouring over old plans for the house. Draco thought they should start looking on the lower level, probably in his father's study. Harry disagreed. The entrance to the dungeons and the hidden Dark Art's stashes was there. And with magic, the portal could be anywhere. He thought they should start on the third floor where he'd never been.

In the end, they decided to go to dinner before they actually set out. Lucius was the only one in the room with them. Remus and Sirius had stayed upstairs. The older wizard watched the boys carefully trying to figure out what they were up to. Neither was forthcoming, so the conversation turned to Harry's new idea.

Lucius explained how Grindelwald had tried to do the same thing in reverse and Harry pondered it for a moment before chalking the Dark Wizard's failure up to method, not idea. More resolved than ever to succeed, Harry answered each question Lucius posed to him with carefully thought out answers and a few truthful 'I haven't figured that out yet'.

Eventually, Lucius seemed satisfied and excused the boys. He watched them till they reached their second story rooms. When the elder Malfoy finally went to his study, the boys sneaked up to the third floor. With Lucius downstairs, they had to start with Harry's idea.

They spent hours searching. Harry's wand arm was so tired and heavy he felt like it was made of lead. And still they searched. Draco seemed obsessed. His gray eyes scanned every piece of floorboard and wall, every cupboard and cabinet. Eventually, they called a rest break. Well, Harry did. Draco only sat down after Harry threatened to hex him.

"I don't understand why we can't find anything!" Draco yelled and leaned back against a sheet-draped chair.

"You didn't even think anything was up here." Harry mumbled and closed his eyes. He never had gotten that nap he'd wanted.

"Errrrr…." Draco's sound of frustration was clear.

"Why is this so important to you?" Harry asked quietly. "I mean, you weren't all, 'Daddy, Daddy, where's our wand chamber' before I mentioned it." He cracked one eye open and watched the other boy.

Draco ran a hand through his perfect locks, leaving a trail of dust behind. "I don't expect you to get it, halfblood."

Harry opened both eyes and leaned forward. "Watch it, ferret. Mother was a witch and father was a wizard. Technically, I'm a pureblood. And besides, it wouldn't matter anyway."

Draco glared. "That's not the point. I could care less about your blood, Potter. It's the way you were raised. You don't understand the wizarding world anymore than at best a halfblood. You seem to grasp our customs and ways even slower than a real muggleborn. There are things you just don't understand."

"Maybe that's because nobody's ever bothered to bloody well explain them!" Harry was really getting aggravated. "They need to give out an instruction manual with that Hogwart's letter. How are muggleborns supposed to understand stuff that nobody teaches us?"

"Us, Potter?" Draco smirked.

"I'm Muggle raised, Malfoy. I've never hid that." Harry sighed and leaned back into the wall. "I'm ignorant, okay? I admit it. So instead of using it against me, try and fix the problem." He heard Draco mirror his sigh.

"I have a lot to prove, all right." Draco mumbled and Harry looked at him questioningly. "I'm the only heir to the Malfoy family. I'm father's only hope, so to speak. That's a lot of pressure in this world. There are centuries of traditions, stories, and history that I'm solely responsible for maintaining." Draco dropped his voice lower. "And sometimes I'm not sure I can do it."

Harry nodded silently and Draco continued in a somewhat louder voice. "I want to find the chamber because I need to prove to myself that I'm worthy of all this. I mean, I'm nothing but a screw up."

"Why would you think that?" Harry rubbed his nose where his glasses had been pressing in. "You're always competing with Hermione for top of our year. You're the seeker for your team." Harry shrugged. "And don't let it go to your head, but you're as hot as hell. What's screwed up about that?"

Draco gave an un-Malfoy snort. "Hermione beats me nine times out of ten. I've never won a match against you. And the one person I think I might actually be able to care about in more than a physical way doesn't seem the least bit interested. Even after I literally threw myself at him."

Harry smiled. "Draco, Hermione only beats you because until now she's never had anything to compete with her studies. Ron and I always came a distant second to her books. You have fun in life. She reads. And as for quidditch, if you stopped trying to goad me and actually looked for the snitch, you might win." Harry smirked. "And Remus likes you. He just isn't ready for a physical relationship yet. And you're his student. That's icky."

Draco chuckled darkly. "Severus seems happy."

It was Harry's turn to snort. "Snape is Snape. He's not Remus and never will be. Remus is a halfblood, you know. Muggles think _very_ badly on student-teacher relationships. To the point of prison time."

Draco nodded but still seemed a little down.

Harry stood up and helped pull Draco to his feet. "Come on. I think we should check out your mother's side of the house."

"Why?" Draco asked, confused.

"Because we've finished this floor and your father's most likely got all kinds of nasty stuff warding the passages out of his study. I don't want to face them unless absolutely necessary."

"All right. But do not make one comment about my mother, or so help me, Potter, you'll wish I'd just turned you into the Dark Lord."

"Noted."

The boys quietly crept over to the other wing of the house. Draco was careful to listen for signs of his mother, but she appeared to be asleep. It was near one in the morning and Narcissa had never been a night owl. In the end, they found the passage entirely by mistake. Harry had bumped into a side table and Draco had dived to save a vase. While lying on the floor, he happened to look to his right, towards the wall. The molding at the base was rounded up instead of meeting the floor flush. Draco carefully put the vase to the side and motioned Harry down.

The Gryffindor took out his wand and carefully checked for wards. A dim green light outlined what looked like a door behind the pesky table. The two grinned in the eerie light. Draco started to move forward to deactivate the wards, but Harry put a hand on his arm.

"Not tonight," Harry whispered. "It's too late and we're too tired to try and break them. We'll come back tomorrow night."

"But Harry…" Draco whined.

Harry just shook his head. "It's not going anywhere." He pulled Draco up and put the vase back on the table. "Now let's get out of here. We don't want to get caught now."

Draco hesitantly followed Harry back to their hallway and reluctantly agreed to meet at nine the next night. He really wanted to go inside, but Potter was right. They were too tired to break the wards without his father feeling it. They needed to be well rested before they tried that. So, the boys went to their rooms and tried to get some sleep.

Harry opened his door and found Sirius sleeping as Padfoot on top of his pillows. He managed to wake the dog enough to get him to transform and stumble into the red bedroom Harry had passed up his first night in the manor. Sirius smiled sleepily at the color scheme and Harry tucked him into the large bed. Sirius mumbled something about that being his job, but was asleep before he had really even woken up. Harry smiled fondly at his godfather as he left the room. Sirius could be down right infuriating, but he was family.

The next morning, Harry woke up to find Sirius and Remus staring down at him from either side of his bed.

"What were you up to last night, young man?" Remus asked him, eyes full of suspicion and more than a little aggravated.

"Me?" Harry grimaced. Not much of a response, but it was early. Sirius actually laughed at him and Remus turned his glare onto his long time friend.

"You, stay out of this. Whatever Harry's been up to, you most likely master minded it."

"Remie, have more faith in Harry than that. He's masterminded this all by himself."

Harry pushed himself further up the bed and reached for his glasses from the nightstand. "Uhm, guys, I haven't masterminded anything in a while. What are you talking about?"

"You were out late last night." Sirius quipped and waggled his eyebrows. "Anything we should know about?"

Harry blinked trying to get the sleep out of his eyes. "Draco and I went exploring the third floor. I wanted to see it, and he had never really given it much thought." Harry grinned. "I find that weird, if you ask me. I'd want to know every nook and cranny of my own house, but," Harry shrugged. "It's Malfoy."

Sirius chuckled and jumped on the bed. "See Remie, nothing. I told you they weren't doing something too stupid." Then Sirius frowned. "Hey, Harry, you didn't want me snooping around, how come you can?" Remus raised an eyebrow in silent support of the question.

Harry smirked. "I had a Malfoy with me. Do you really think Lucius would make a nasty trap that could harm his own son? He's odd, but he's got a vested interest in seeing Draco reach adulthood."

Remus and Sirius exchanged looks. Remus finally unfolded his arms only to wag a finger at Harry. "This is not over, Mr. Potter. You were up to something; I can positively smell it. If I need to, I'll sniff your trail from one corner of this house to another, and Sirius will help me."

"Sorry, old friend, but you'll have to do it alone." Sirius apologized as he jumped off the bed. "I've got to take off this morning after breakfast. I really should get out of here before Dumbledore shows up with Snape and Hermione." Sirius shivered. "Merlin, the thought of that nice girl sleeping with the greasy git…the pillow cases are probably permanently yellow."

Harry caught Remus' eye as he got out of bed and reached for his clothes. "Actually, they're mostly black and a deep blue. And if you are so interested, you should ask her about it. She's quite willing to go into detail."

Sirius looked horrified.

"Evidently, he's got the most magnificent skill with, well, let's just say his _hands_." Remus added, waggling his fingers for effect. Sirius went pale and looked positively ill.

Harry chuckled as he closed the door to the bathroom to change. Those two were impossible.

Sirius and Remus followed Harry downstairs to the dinning room where they met Lucius and Draco. Harry tried to impart some kind of a warning to Draco through his eyes about the inquisition of the morning. Draco gave him an odd look, message not received. Harry sighed. Where was Legilimency when you needed it?

But luck seemed to be with him, as Remus and Sirius quickly but awkwardly sat down without saying a word. Lucius nodded to his uninvited guest and Harry started to breathe again.

The meal was almost totally silent, none of the table's occupants being especially large morning people. Harry was the first one done and asked politely to be excused. Lucius nodded at him to go and Harry smiled at Sirius on the way out. The Animagus quickly stood and pulled him into a hug.

"In case I don't catch you again before I leave." He whispered in Harry's ear. "You take care of Remus for me will you?" Sirius nodded minutely towards Draco. "I'm going to have a bit of talk with that boy and I want to make sure you can pick up the pieces of our dear werewolf if need be. Understood?"

Harry nodded and gave his godfather another hug. "Loud and clear. Be careful, Sirius. I don't think I could stand loosing you again."

Sirius smiled and returned the hug. "You too, kid. This crazy idea of yours, it's not worth dying over."

"For the first time, Sirius, I really think I've found something that just might be." Harry let his godfather go and exited the room. He wanted to tackle the next summer essay before lunch and the theoretical.

Sirius sat back down at the table and picked at his food. Harry was really scaring him. He looked up as Lucius' aristocratic drawl broke into his thoughts.

"Lupin, if you are finished, I could use your help outlining today's lesson. If we aren't going to be spending time cultivating negative emotions, we might as well get to the more interesting illegal curses." Lucius stood from the table and Remus followed after putting his napkin down.

"Of course, Lucius." Remus turned to Sirius and smiled. "Will you listen to Harry and be careful?"

"Aren't I always?"

Remus gave him a doubtful look but left anyway. Finally, Sirus thought, alone at last.

Draco squirmed in his chair as the Animagus eyed him. The boy cleared his throat and was about to attempt small talk when Sirius spoke.

"If you hurt him, I will personally tear out each pretty little hair from your head, fashion a rope from it, and hang you from the Slytherin goal posts."

Draco blinked. That was not what he had expected. But Sirius continued.

"I know you think you're the goddess's gift to the universe, Malfoy, but Remus isn't somebody you can just have your fun with and leave. He's too old for that, and he's been through too much. If you trifle with him…" Sirius let the threat hang.

Draco's eyes hardened. "I would never do that to him. Remus is special." Draco mustered his best glare. "And if you try to deny him what happiness I can give him, you'd be doing him a horrendous injustice."

Sirius sneered. "And what happiness can you offer him? Position as your paid lover while you go off and marry some pureblood snobby bitch and breed little conceited clones of yourself?"

Draco shook his head and let ice creep into his tone. "Careful, mutt. You might be related to me, but considering your family disowned you, I'm under no obligation to recognize that and have every right to kill you for trespassing." Draco calmly picked up his orange juice and drank while eyeing the Animagus over the top of the glass. "What I can offer Remus is something not even you can. Safety. The Malfoy name comes with certain advantages, as well as a few inconveniences." Draco glanced momentarily at his left arm, message clear. Sirius' scowl deepened.

"One of those advantages is that our lovers and their families can benefit from our _unique_ relationship with the Ministry."

"What are you getting at?"

Draco let out a feral grin. "I'm saying that if Remus takes me up on my offer, he'll not have to worry about the Minister or the Ministry of Magic interfering in his life ever again, or in Hermione's should they find out about her. He'll never have to worry about being fired from his job, and even if he is, money will never be an issue. And as for me marrying in the future," Draco dropped the smile and sighed. "It is something I will delay as long as possible, and something I will not take joy in. Although, children would not be as bad as the woman."

Sirius eyed him carefully. "What happens if he doesn't agree to be your lover?"

Draco grimaced. "You think I'd send the Ministry after him for turning me down?"

Sirius growled and nodded.

"Never. Look Black, I think I love him, all right? I'm not about to do anything to hurt him. Whatever he decides, I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure he's happy." Draco folded his napkin and stood up. "If you don't believe that, then tell me why I've been so patient with him since he came here? He's in my home. It would take a mere second for me to slip something into his food, or even to curse him into submission. That's not what I want."

"What do you want?"

Draco crossed the room to the door and paused with his hand on the handle. "I want to be myself for once. Not the Malfoy heir, not the pureblood Death Eater, and not the slimy Slytherin. I want to be me. Remus sees through all that. He's the only one to ever do so." Draco paused and took a breath. "Except for maybe Potter. But Harry's got to many problems for me to solve."

"And Remus doesn't."

"No, he's just flawed enough." Sirius could hear the smile in Draco's voice. "He's just the way I need him to be. Jaded and strong, intelligent and feral. Perfect." Draco opened the door and walked out letting it slide closed behind him.

Sirius left the manor feeling more than a little confused as he apparated away. Things just hadn't gone as he'd planned.

/ / / /

Draco walked upstairs feeling his very bones shake. Black's threats had been real, and they were intimidating. The fury in those eyes had reminded him exactly what stock Sirius Black had come from, all too familiar stock. Draco rubbed his left arm. Black was only a few steps better than some of the people he knew bore the same Mark. Draco only hoped those last few steps were never taken, or else they all might have something to worry about.

He went to his room and quietly found his homework. He stared unseeing at the pages, not even sure which textbook he was holding. He'd been spouting off to Black before, but was what he said true? Did he really love Remus enough to protect the man for the rest of his life, no matter what Remus chose or how much the werewolf might hurt him with his rejection? Draco closed his eyes. Yes, yes he did. And that was what made it all hurt so damn bad.

Life was just getting so hard. Things used to make sense. He got up in the morning, tormented Potter, ate lunch, tormented Weasley, ate dinner, and insulted Hermione. Now he couldn't even think of her with anything other than her first name! When had it all gone so wrong? That's why he wanted to find the chamber so much. He needed to know he had some link to everything still, some connection to it all. Harry said the past lived with them in the wizarding world. Draco couldn't feel it. All he felt was change. And it was unbalancing his normally static world.

Draco closed the book and opened his eyes to look around his sitting room. It was all black furniture and green flames, like the Slytherin Common Room. He'd done it on purpose. But all of a sudden, it didn't feel as homey as it once had. He missed the clutter of Remus' office at Hogwarts. He missed their chats. They had talked all the time during the school year. But even with the man only living a few doors down the hall, they had hardly had a chance to speak alone.

It wasn't fair. Why did Remus have to face all this? It wasn't his fault he'd been bitten. Why did father and he end up with the Dark Mark? Why did fate say they had to suffer this burden? And why did Harry have to save the bloody world? And why did the bloody do-gooder have to drag his Remus into it?

That's what it came down to, isn't it? Draco thought. His Remus. It didn't really matter if he got the man's body. He really wanted the company anyway. Sex would just be a bonus. Sex Draco could get anywhere. The understanding he'd told Black about, that was precious.

But would that stay enough? Draco angrily pouched the sofa next to him. No, it already wasn't enough. He didn't want that quiet knowing smile to be the only expression Remus gave him. He wanted to see the man relaxed. He wanted to see what he looked like in the morning, rumbled and bleary-eyed. He wanted to be there through all of Remus' ups and downs. He wanted to help the man and he wanted to be helped. It was weird, and scary, and Draco was more than a little terrified. Malfoy's weren't supposed to feel like this. But a small part of him scuffed at that. His father loved his mother, loved her enough that the pain was obvious in his eyes as he watched her slip away. Not that Lucius was the most faithful of mates, but he showed his affection plainly in other ways. Ways Draco had grown up seeing.

He buried his face into the back of the couch. What was he going to do? He knew he was so much younger than the werewolf. And Harry was right, muggles _deplored _the idea of students and teachers together, and the wizarding world didn't like the idea that much either. Severus had been called everything from a pedophile to at best a pervert. Would Remus be willing to go through that for him?

And what of marriage and children? Draco had to marry and produce an heir. It was his duty, one he'd had on his shoulders since birth. Would Remus, or the wolf, be able to allow his mate to do that? And could Draco hurt Remus enough to carry out what he had to do? He knew it would hurt the man, no matter how much he'd try to hide it, no matter how many times he'd tell Draco to do it. It would tear them both up inside. Would it be worth it?

Draco breathed in the soft leather scent and he knew it was. It was more than worth it. Because when he thought about his future, the only bright spot was the hope that Remus would be there. That they'd be able to sit and talk about stupid things, or books, or even play a silly board game. And Draco would be free to laugh without feeling guilty. He'd be free to read what he wanted, even muggle books, and Remus would never chide him for it. What pureblood trophy wife and brood mare would ever, could ever, do that? None. And that is what it all boiled down to. It was Remus or no one.

Draco pushed himself off the couch and decided it was time he said that to the professor. It was time he proved it wasn't teenage hormones, lust, or curiosity.

/ / / /

The discussion with Lucius had gone well and Remus was satisfied in the curses they would teach the boys later today. Lucius was drawing up the last of the plans for the lesson after lunch, and Remus had every intention of getting a head start on next year's Defense course work while he had the time. That was the plan, until he found Draco sitting on the floor outside his rooms, twiddling the edge of his robe in his fingers and looking for all the world like a lost puppy.

And the wolf was more than willing to take in a stray. Remus shut his eyes in concentration for a moment, pushing that mental image out of his mind. Control. He had to maintain control. The boy had no idea what he was doing. His foolish attempts to bed Remus at Hogwarts had made it clear how little the boy really meant by his overtures. Their previous conversations about their 'relationship' aside, Draco wasn't ready for anything serious. And Remus didn't want something flippant anymore.

"We need to talk."

Four simple words and Remus was pushing down panic. "Not now, Draco, I need to get some rest. The moon's coming…" He tried to enter his room, but Draco's hand on his arm stopped him. He tried to hold in his shudder, but Draco must have felt it as he jerked his hand away.

"Look, I know I'm pushing you, and I know you're not ready to do this, but I can't keep waiting, Remus. There are some things I just have to say to you."

Remus shut his eyes and felt like crying. Not now. Not now when things were just starting to feel okay. Sirius had made him feel alive again. And Harry had provided a distraction, and now…and now…Remus felt Draco touch him again, guiding him into the room and shutting the door.

"Draco…" It was almost a plea. The boy let go of his arm and nervously sat down in one of the yellow chairs.

"Remus, I have to say this. Just let me say it." Draco looked up at him with big gray eyes and Remus nodded despite himself. "I said I'd wait. But I can't. Because what you think I'm waiting for isn't really important." Remus sat down heavily across from the boy. Draco shivered slightly and steeled himself. "You see, I don't just want to sleep with you, Remus. I want you." He looked up, determination set in his eyes. "You asked me for how long would I want you to be with me. Forever, Remus. I want you forever."

Remus' head was spinning. "Draco, you don't know what you're saying. You're just a child…"

"A child?" Draco's voice was sad. "How old do I have to be before you will believe? Tell me, and I'll try and stay away from you till then. I know…" Draco smiled sadly. "I know I've acted like an immature idiot this year. I had no right to proposition you during the full moon, and I should have waited to say all this till later, but Remus, listen to me. I'm not just out to satisfy my curiosity. This isn't about some silly schoolboy fantasy of shagging a professor." He took a breath. "This is about how much I've missed you this last month. We haven't talked since you found out about Hermione, we've all been to busy. And I miss my friend." Draco reached out and placed a hand on Remus' knee. "I miss you, Remus Lupin. And I don't care how much or how little of you I can be privileged to have, so long as I have some. I can live with some. I'll learn how."

It was too much for the wolf. It took all of a second before Remus found himself on top of the boy, kissing him for all he was worth. At first Draco thought his dream had come true. Then reality came crashing back down and he pushed Remus away with considerable difficulty.

"I can't, we can't. Not like this." Draco was out of breath and his eyes held more than a small amount of regret.

"Why not? I thought you wanted this?" Remus growled and tried to reestablish the kiss but Draco squirmed out of his grasp.

"I did, I do. But not now. Not when you're so close to the change. I won't take advantage of you like that."

"I didn't bother you to try before." Remus' eyes were amber and flashing.

Draco shook his head. "That was before I realized how much you mean to me. If you still want this after the transformation, I'll be waiting. But I'm not going to do this with you when you're not in control. And you're not, Remus. Whatever's been going on these last few weeks, you're not in control. And it's not fair to you to ask you to make this kind of decision when you're not. Because I'm not talking a snog, a fuck, and then we go our separate ways. I'm saying if we do this, we aren't going back."

"I don't understand…."

Draco smiled and slowly edged around the frustrated werewolf for the door. "Yes, you do. You just need some time to cool down. The wolf's making you a bit insistent. You see, Malfoy's don't give up what they consider theirs easily. Once we take that last step, it's permanent."

Draco slipped out the door and shut it behind him. He could hear Remus start to pace inside, but he resisted the temptation to go back in. Gods, he wanted the man. The kiss had been everything he'd dreamed of. So demanding, yet he'd let Draco take it over when he'd tried. No fight, just a submission that seemed to demand more from Draco than Remus gave. It was heady. But he couldn't let Remus do this. The werewolf had to come to him of his own desire, or it would be meaningless. Draco slowly walked back down the hall to his room. He needed it to mean something, to mean everything.

/ / / /

The lessons were awkward. Harry didn't quite know why, but Remus and Draco never made eye contact. Lucius seemed to know something was up, but the man paid it no mind. The theoretical lesson consisted of reading assignments from books Lucius had brought up from hidden libraries. The practical had been more fun. Harry had gotten to put his theory of Light casting into practice and had managed to cast an illegal flame spell without using Dark Magic. Draco had come close. Surprisingly, Lucius and Remus had joined in with them. Remus had failed to even get a flicker with Light magic, but Lucius had managed it first time.

The surprises didn't stop there. At nine o'clock on the dot, Harry met Draco and they resumed their clandestine wand hunt. Lucius had obviously not been back to enhance his hastily constructed wards. The boys managed to get through them by re-routing the magical energy into a smaller loop, allowing them to crawl through the lower half of the door. What they found inside was enough to make both gasp in awe.

The room was circular and seemed to continue up almost forever. There were plaques on the wall with names and dates etched into them lining the entire chamber all the way up as far as the eye could see. In the center of the unusual structure stood a raised dais, bathed in a circle of light from some unseen source.

Draco took a deep breath and handed his wand to Harry. With a determined step, the blond heir walked into the light. All hell broke loose. Out of the plaques flew strings of multi-colored lights. They all trailed down and began to loop around the platform and Draco. Harry didn't know where to stand and ducked as the strands whizzed over his head. It took what felt like hours, but was really only minutes, for the lights to settle down. Draco was so covered in the strands that Harry couldn't even see him. Then, there was a blast of wind and power and Draco stood starring at his wand arm, holding a dark colored wand.

He took a shaky step off the platform and almost fell. Harry caught him just in time and lowered him to sit on the edge.

"I did it." Draco's voice sounded shocked. "I did it, Harry. Look." He held up the wand. "It's my great-great-great-great-great grandmothers. Thirteen inch, mahogany, phoenix feather." Draco was in a state of shock. He looked up at Harry and smiled. "I'm the third to use it. Before her was her grandfather. Everyone whose's wielded this has been one of the leading wizards of their age."

Harry looked at the rather normal looking wand and shrugged. "How can you tell whose it was? It looks like just a wand to me."

Draco shook his head no and slowly traced the wand with his finger. "It talks to you when you hold it. It told me its story. It's seen duels and it taught Charms once. It's been through so much." Draco glanced at Harry and his smile failed. "I had to promise not to ever take it with me to a Dark Revel."

Harry nodded and propped Draco up onto his feet. "Then I must say I like the wand. Now, let's get out of here. This place gives me the creeps."

Draco shook his head no and glanced at the platform. "Don't you want to try?"

Harry's eyes grew large. "Draco, I'm not a Malfoy."

Draco looked at the wand in his hand then back up. "All pureblood families are related. Potter's and Malfoy's are no exception."

Harry pulled out his own wand. "I… I can't, Draco. This wand isn't just a tool for me. It's…it has to be what I end all of this with. It's the brother to Voldemort's. They are made of exactly the same things. This wand is proof that it is choice that makes us what we are. I have to stick with it."

Suddenly, a single blast of light zipped around Harry and sunk into the platform. Draco chuckled. "They offered you a choice, and they are happy with what you decided. But when this is all over, they've invited you to come back."

Harry made no comment till he'd pulled Draco back into his mother's wing and they'd reapplied the wards. They managed to make it back to Draco's room before Harry had come up with something to say.

"Is it normal to talk to your wand?" Harry winced. That was not what he'd meant to say. He'd meant to thank Draco for the weird, if somewhat out of the question, offer.

Draco didn't seem offended, however. He simply looked carefully at his new wand and his old one. "I think it's the room, not the wands. There are so many in there, I think they've formed some kind of intelligence all their own. But, Harry, you would have heard them had you listened properly and stood on the platform."

"I was once told that hearing voices wasn't a good thing, even in the Wizarding world."

Draco chuckled. "Normally, that's correct." He pulled down a long carved box from the bookshelf and wrapped his new wand in velvet before placing it inside. "But what I just experienced wasn't normal."

Harry looked to the ground than back up again. "Thank you for the offer, Draco. You don't know how much it means to me. I…" Harry snorted. "I never thought I'd feel honored to be linked to the Malfoy family in any way. But you and your father have proved to me how wrong my preconceptions were. For the most part."

"Why thank you." Draco smirked and bowed.

"Don't let it go to your head."

They both laughed and Harry eyed the box. "Was it worth it? Do you feel better now?"

Draco followed his eyes. "Strangely, yes. It's sort of like I just got the blessing of my family, to be myself. And I just confirmed my suspicions; not all of us have been evil snarling bastards. The chamber proved that."

"Good. I'm glad." Harry had the sudden desire to give Draco a friendly hug. He squelched it, but barely. Instead, he waved goodnight and went back to his room still holding his wand.

He was tempted to sneak back into the chamber and take it up on it and Draco's offer. But something stopped him. It wasn't really his family that would be giving approval. It was Draco's. His family couldn't do so, even from the grave. Whatever had happened to his parent's wands, Harry was sure they weren't in a large circular room somewhere. It felt almost like loosing them again. To see the expression on Draco's face as he held his ancestor's wand was like seeing the other kids playing in the park with their mother and father all over again. He was so close to it, but he couldn't touch it. It wasn't meant for him. It was never meant for him.


	4. Chapter Three: Poco Più Mosso, Part II

Complications of Birth - REVISED

Complications of Birth - REVISED

Author: Saavik

Disclaimer: I am not making money off of this. I'd like to, but men in black suits would come and take me away.

Summary: Sequel to Contemplations of Birth and the WIP Convergence of Birth. Now in seventh year, our intrepid cast faces the ultimate test of their loyalty, strength, and sanity.

Pairings: HG/SS, HP/LM, DM/RL, GW/CC, and others

Warnings: Spoilers for Book Five. For the rest, see chapter one.

**Chapter Three: Poco Più Mosso (A little more movement.) – Part II**

Severus watched Hermione pack her bag. She was carefully folding each robe, every crease perfect. Crookshanks was watching her, lying right on top of her bathrobe. The cat's eyes followed each piece of clothing as it went into the bag. The animal looked up and meowed at Severus. The potion master scowled and shrugged. What was he supposed to do about it? The cat went back to silently watching its mistress, but Severus didn't move away. His wife didn't seem to notice her observers anyway.

The shock and trauma of the events in Malfoy Manor had started to wear down, but Severus knew this was a horrid idea. For Albus to order them back, to order _Hermione _back, was in-humanly cruel. The child had enough to worry about with the full moon, let alone being forced to deal with the Manor right now. The pain was too fresh.

Severus eventually left the room in a swirl of black and went to his lab. He had his own form of packing. The house-elves had his robes prepared for him, but his potions were another matter. He'd be cursed to hell before he'd let one of those creatures touch his work. Strike that, he'd already been cursed to hell several times over and he still wasn't letting them get near his potions.

He pulled a large black bag out from a cupboard and started to take various vials and bottles down from the shelf, placing them into special pockets inside made to hold them. He didn't trust a charmed bag; the magic might interfere with the potions. The old muggle doctor's bag worked more than adequately. He made sure the doses of Wolfsbane were there as well as several healing potions. He glanced at his shelf of personal stock. Reluctantly, he took down several calming potions and several sedatives. Directly after the incidents a few weeks ago, he'd been medicating Hermione heavily. In the last few days he'd managed to wean her off of most of them. But with the coming transformation and being back at the Manor, it would be better to have them. Just in case.

Severus' hands shook slightly as he lowered the bottles into his bag. He closed his eyes and winced. He was actually scared. He had seen what happened with Narcissa. He'd thought Hermione was stronger than that. Especially considering her trauma wasn't as prolonged or as invasive as Mrs. Malfoy's. But he remembered going through this stage with Lucius. First a sleeping potion here, than a calming potion there, than an anti-hallucinogen, then a sedative, then more complex, more addictive, and more dangerous potions. And they had less and less of an effect. Narcissa just gave up. She'd left. Gone. Not there. Like the Longbottoms, she'd died but her body hadn't gotten the message. Empty eyes. Hermione's weren't empty, not yet. And Severus hoped to Merlin they never would be. But the next few days would give him an idea of what he could expect.

He walked back into his rooms and Hermione was sitting in front of the stove reading. She looked up at him and smiled as he came in. Her hands were shaking slightly and her back was stiff. The bag at her feet seemed to be drawing more of her attention than the pages in front of her. Crookshanks was curled up next to her and Severus was once again glad the animal was so forgiving. He'd worried the cat would reject Hermione once her werewolf blood became dominant. Hermione needed the furball's support, however, so he was glad when the orange nuisance seemed to pay it no mind.

"Are you ready to leave?" He asked quietly, proud his voice sounded neutral instead of wavering.

Hermione gave a timid smile and nodded yes. "I'm all packed. It will be nice to see everyone again. I know they've only been gone a few days, but I miss them." She stood up and patted Crookshanks. "You'll be a good boy for Professor McGonagall while I'm gone?" The cat didn't say anything but seemed to get an evil twinkle in its large yellowish eyes. Maybe the animal wasn't so horrid after all.

Severus levitated their luggage and took Hermione's hand as they left their rooms. The empty halls of the school were eerie in the summer, and the mood was more than depressed. The Bloody Baron drifted by and even he seemed more morose than usual. By the time they reached the Headmaster's office, they were both feeling like they were headed to the guillotine.

"You don't have to go. I can talk Albus out of this." Severus didn't look at her as he said it. He knew there were reasons for going, very good reasons. But it didn't make it any easier.

Hermione squeezed his hand. "No, we should go. I think…" She swallowed. "I think I'd rather have Remus with me."

"I understand." He looked down and let a real smile show. "But if you change your mind, just tell me and we'll come home."

She smiled back and nodded. Her hands seemed a bit steadier. They both jumped a bit as Albus came out from the gargoyle and jovially bounced up to them. (How a man of over two hundred managed to bounce was beyond Severus, but than again, it was the Headmaster.)

"Are we all ready to go?" He asked as he patted his large purple polka dotted overnight case.

Severus and Hermione nodded, separating hands. Public displays still made them both uncomfortable.

Albus twinkled at them and started for the front doors. "I'm so glad you two will be getting out of the castle. It's not good for young people to be kept here in the glum all year. Severus here hasn't left in far too long. He needs a vacation."

Severus snorted. This trip couldn't get any further from a vacation if it involved Unforgivables.

"I do love Friday, don't you?" When neither companion answered, Albus just beamed a stronger twinkle and continued on. "It's more like the beginning of the week than the end I've always thought." They reached the outskirts of the wards several minutes, and multiple perky topics, later.

Albus pulled out a large cardboard box that read 'Howard's of London' on it. "We'll Portkey there. That way no one will have time to see we've left." They all grabbed a hold of the piece of trash, and in a gut wrenching moment they stood outside Malfoy manor.

Hermione shivered and closed her eyes for a moment before straightening her shoulders. "All right, let's get this over with." She briskly picked up her bag before Severus could levitate it for her, and headed straight for the front door.

As usual, they were met by an impeccably groomed Lucius Malfoy. "My dear, welcome back to my home. Your presence honors me." He smiled and gently raised her hand to his lips, his breath barely ghosting over her, but not touching.

"The honor is mine, Lucius. May we come in?"

Lucius smirked and moved aside. "Of course." He ushered them all into the entryway. Hermione kept her eyes on their host, but betrayed no sign of fear or trepidation. Severus was starting to think he might have been overreacting. Perhaps Hermione really was strong enough. Maybe, it was himself he should have been worried about. "Headmaster, I've taken the liberty of giving you a room next to Mr. Potter. Hermione, Severus, you are welcome to the quarters next to mine."

"The ones linked to your rooms?" Severus asked suspiciously. It was highly unorthodox to offer what was traditionally the wife's room to a guest, no matter how close. (Especially a guest you weren't planning on playing carnally with then discarding.)

Lucius gave his friend a serious look. "I thought you might like to have a friend close." He smirked. "And access to my liquor cabinet."

Hermione laughed. "Only the best intentions then?"

"I only ever have good intentions, my lady."

"The road to hell, Lucius." Severus whispered mostly to himself.

"What was that, Severus?"

"Nothing."

Albus watched the exchange with satisfaction. He was happy to see Severus interacting with a friend. The man had so few. Lucius really was the only one close to his age that he considered such. As good for him as she was, Hermione wasn't a friend. She was too young to understand much of what Severus had experienced and her interests were those of the young. Severus' relationship with Lucius was much older and arguably deeper, for now. That was hopefully subject to change. As Hermione grew up, grew older, grew more –however sadly- more cynical, the two would find more common ground. Regardless, now that Lucius was on the side of Light, things could only get better.

Lucius caught the headmaster's attention as they walked up the stairs. "Headmaster, there has been a change in plans. I believe Mr. Potter should explain it to you for himself, considering he is the one who precipitated it."

The twinkle went out in Albus' eyes. "Is there a problem? He's not hurt is he?"

"No." Lucius smiled coldly and stopped outside Harry's room. "I do believe the boy pre-empted a problem or injury. This is his suite. I'm sure he can tell you which bedroom is open and answer your questions." He turned his back on the older wizard. "Severus, Hermione, your rooms are next to mine. Down the hall and to the left."

They turned and walked away. Albus watched them for a moment before knocking. There was a slight pause and a shuffle before Harry Potter opened the door.

"Headmaster?" His big green eyes blinked in confusion.

"Harry, you look well. Didn't Lucius tell you we were coming?"

"Yes, but I didn't expect you till nightfall."

Albus smiled. "I thought I should give Hermione and Remus some time to go over things before the moon rises."

Harry nodded and backed up, ushering the elderly wizard into the sitting room. "Are you staying with me then?"

"If you don't object to company." Albus smiled softly. The damage done to his relationship with the boy in his 5th year had yet to be completely healed.

Despite that, Harry grinned. "Oh no, I wouldn't mind, Professor. We have some things to discuss anyway."

"Yes, Lucius did say something about that."

"Let me take your bag, sir, and we can order some tea." Harry took the large purple bag and placed it in the unused blue room. The one Hermione had been held in. That left the red room open for Sirius, and meant Dumbledore had no opportunity to find black dog hair in his bed. Harry returned to the sitting room and summoned an elf with the promised tea.

"What has happened, Harry?" Concern etched the wizard's face and his eyes were serious for once.

Harry sighed and calmly sat down opposite the headmaster. "Sir, I've decided I can't keep learning Dark Magic. I'm not going to do it." He paused. "In fact, I've decided I'm going to only fight Voldemort with Light magic. Maybe if I do that, people will begin to understand the real nature of things instead of just arbitrarily labeling people and spells. I'm tired of all the stupid prejudice."

Albus was true to form and showed no surprise. "Why Harry, I thought that was what you were doing all along."

"What!?" Harry blinked and was about to start stuttering out an explanation until he saw the twinkle in the older wizard's eye going full force. "You're joking?"

Albus smiled softly. "You've learned to read me. Merlin help me next school year." He gave a gentle laugh. "Harry, I thought you might make this decision. I'd actually hoped it would happen. The Wizarding World needs to start understanding the nature of their magic. It's the only way to stop more Voldemorts from finding followers."

"But, why haven't you done it then?" Harry was angry and confused. A state he was beginning to associate with the old man.

Albus' smile faltered and he sighed. "I've spent my life battling darkness, Harry. And I've lived for others and never had a moment for myself. When I turned down the position of Minister of Magic, I did it for selfish reasons. I love Hogwarts. I'm only truly happy in its halls." Albus calmly put a hand on Harry's leg. "I'm tired, my boy. I don't want to leave my home. If I stay at Hogwarts, I'd never be able to set a large enough example to change the whole world. The students would benefit, and do, but not the public. You are in a position to speed the message further than I can. You are not bound to the castle walls." Albus sat back. "You have more potential then I, Harry. I'm an old wizard that is already seen as eccentric. Many would never think to take me seriously."

"They think I'm insane and going to turn into the next Dark Lord." Harry nearly snarled.

Albus smirked. "You get used to it. They thought that way about me when I defeated Grindelwald. Whenever good triumphs over evil, the question remains. Is good really that good? What should happen should the one who prevailed fall to Darkness? Who would stop them? It is a real fear."

Albus and Harry continued their conversation for several hours. They had lunch delivered and the Boy Who Lived slowly decided that he might just like the Headmaster after all. As long as he wasn't dealing with him in his capacity as Order leader. After 5th year, he hadn't really trusted the man. But as they talked, Harry realized how alike their pasts were, at least when it came to growing up too fast in the middle of a war. Dumbledore had been forced to fight his own Dark Lord and given his life over to a cause, Hogwarts. Harry could tell how lonely the old wizard was as they talked. Dumbledore had never married, never had a family. He rarely saw his brother. As a matter of fact, he rarely left Hogwart's at all. Even in the summer. The faculty always treated him with respect, which equaled distance. The student's either feared him, abhorred him, or adored him. Harry could relate to that. Even Ron treated him differently because of his abilities and past. The life he faced was likely not to differ much from the Headmaster's. Harry felt even more alone as that thought struck him. By the time Dumbledore left for his own rooms, Harry was numb.

/ / / /

Severus and Hermione found Narcissa's old rooms in good order, but stark. Unlike the rest of the house, the Lady's traditional rooms were white. There was white carpet, white walls, white ceiling, and white furnishings. Hermione shivered. It felt like a hospital.

Severus set down their bags. "Lucius spelled it like this after Narcissa requested to be moved to the other wing."

"Why?" Hermione walked over to the window and opened the blinds to see a soft garden scene with a large sculptured bush in the shape of a dragon. How appropriate.

Severus sighed and pulled his wand out to transfigure the furniture into less harsh forms. "She didn't feel comfortable being so close to Lucius and Draco anymore. She said she felt dirty and didn't want it to rub off on Draco. Lucius couldn't stand having the room remind him of his wife before all the meetings, so he did this. Draco was about four at the time."

Hermione moved away from the window and started to help Severus put a little color in the stark room. "Why white?"

"Why not?" He smirked. "It is Lucius we are discussing. And he won't mind the changes. As long as I don't return it to what it looked like 20 years ago."

Hermione snorted. "I need to remember whose house we're in. Nothing Lucius does seems to make sense to me." She pulled her robes straight. "Would you mind if I went to talk with Remus for a while?" She ran a hand over her hair trying to smooth it down. "I…I think I should find out a bit more about tonight." Her voice was soft and Severus had to strain to hear the last few words.

"Of course, child. Please do so." He smiled at her and she tentatively returned the look. He hated to ruin the moment, but he went to his bag anyway and pulled out the two flasks of Wolfsbane. "You both should take these sometime after lunch. I imagine you will be in his rooms for some time." Hermione's mouth turned down in a slight frown, but she took the bottled potions anyway.

"I'll be back before nightfall." She turned and strode out the door with a definite swish of determination in her robes. Severus smirked. He was being a questionable influence. Wonderful.

/ / / /

Remus was waiting not so patiently for Hermione to arrive. He knew she'd want to talk with him. He heard Albus turn up and promptly ordered tea for himself and his daughter. She should arrive at any moment. The itching he'd complained to Sirius about had diminished as his trepidation about Hermione's transformation grew.

He heard her footsteps before her quiet knock. His senses were so heightened that it was almost painful.

"Come in."

Hermione poked her head into the room before coming all the way inside. "Remus?"

He smiled and stood up. "Come in, Hermione. Tea? I thought you'd like to talk." He motioned her towards the seat grouping in the far corner of the sitting room and then moved the tea table over to them.

"Thank you." She took the offered cup and sat primly in her chair.

Remus watched her and for a moment let the wolf look as well. How could he have missed the truth? Her smell screamed it. He could tell just form that alone that she was his daughter. And he could tell she was petrified, no matter what her outside appearance might convey.

"Are you noticing a difference since the change over?" He asked, curious, and to start the conversation.

"Like what?" She looked up and seemed to share his curiosity. It must be genetic.

"I've been wondering exactly what the differences between a full werewolf and a half one are after the 1st transformation has been forced." He was pressing the issue, and he knew it. But this would be wiser than jumping straight into discussing what was to happen in a few hours.

Hermione frowned. "Now that you mention it, I really don't notice anything different. Should I?"

Remus shook his head no. "There have never been any articles or books published on the subject. The Ministry fears the increase in strength before the transformation, but they are also worried about the ramifications of having someone who never lived as a normal witch or wizard before getting bitten. That led to the laws against breeding. And with them in place, I've never had the opportunity to meet a half-werewolf. I have no idea what you should be feeling. The only thing we know is that half-werewolves will only transform monthly after the 1st one is forced by some sort of catalyst."

"Oh." Hermione hung her head. "So you can't tell me anymore about…this?"

This time Remus did have some good news. "Well, after its safe, I can take you with me to Germany. I found an all werewolf community hidden there. They might know more than I do. I didn't really ask around about this topic when I was there before. It never occurred to me that I might have to worry about it." Hermione perked up. The ever-curious scholar that she was, was drooling. "But we can't go with Voldemort after you."

"Of course not." She smiled. "That just means I have more time to research other accounts. There has to be something hidden somewhere. Most likely in Dark Art's books."

Remus faltered for a moment then stood up and began pacing. The wolf was getting agitated over the conversation. So much for the last of his patience. He huffed and ran a hand through his hair. He caught Hermione watching him. Her eyes showed her surprise and he sighed, collapsing in a chair.

"Remus, what brought that on?"

Remus grimaced. Hermione had rarely seen him right before the moon, and never when he had such a tenuous hold on the wolf. It amazed him that she was sitting still! He wanted to run, he wanted to yell, he wanted to do something! But she was calm. Normal. It was aggravating.

He eventually stopped staring at his daughter and cleared his throat. "I'm just a little restless before the moon. More so this time around for some reason." Her eyes softened and he gave a tentative smile.

"To think, for years I've always just marked it up to PMS." She smirked.

"You don't seem restless." Remus just barely managed to keep the resentment out of his voice.

Hermione snorted. "Talk to Severus. I'm usually a bit out of norm. I think he likes that though." She didn't go into to details, but Remus still got a nasty unwanted mental image. If she got up to half the stuff with Severus that he had with Peter, Merlin help their furniture. It was a good thing the man was a potions master. He most likely needed several energy potions the week before the moon just to keep up.

Remus got rid of his grimace and managed to croak out, "Why not now?"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "I guess I'm too scared to be hyper." She hung her head and looked dejected.

Remus stopped fighting and really looked at her. Hermione's eyes were wider than normal and he could smell her fear rolling off her in waves. She was doing an admirable job of hiding it, but it was there never the less, if you had the nose for it. Or had even bothered to look.

"Hermione, I can't tell you this will be a great time, but you'll get through it."

Hermione grimaced. "Three nights of loosing all control, intense pain, and the risk of being found out are not something I'm ever going to find less then terrifying." She paused. "I'm so scared, Remus."

He nodded and moved to sit next to her. "It's not as bad as all that. Not anymore. The Wolfsbane potion makes us less of a threat. You have some control. And it doesn't hurt nearly as much."

"But we're still under Ministry persecution." Hermione sighed. "And I'd thought being muggleborn was bad. If they find out what I am, they could sentence us both to death."

Remus closed his eyes and forced the wolf not to snarl out loud. "We'll just have to make sure they don't find out. You've spent years hiding being a Penwrath. You can do this."

Hermione glared. "That does not make it easy or right. And this is a whole different proposition."

"Yes it is. And no it doesn't." Remus let that hang. Hermione turned to stare out the window and Remus got up to pace again. When lunch time came, he ordered food up to the room. They eat quickly, took their potions, gagged on the taste in unison, then they both just looked at one another.

"What is it going to feel like?" Hermione softly asked.

Remus paused his restless pacing and leaned against the wall with his back to his daughter. "It feels like every bone in your body is trying to claw its way out. Your head feels like it's in a vice and every sense becomes so sharp, you just want to go blind and deaf to make it stop." Hermione swallowed loudly. "Then it's like being hit by a bludger. You stop breathing for a moment. Then, you open your eyes and the world has changed." He turned around and looked her in the eye. "And you never get used to it."

"Oh." Came the meek reply. "Glad I asked, I guess."

/ / / /

Eventually, it was time. They had gone to the dinning room for dinner, not that Remus or Hermione could stomach anything, and then everyone had moved into the entry hall in unspoken agreement and understanding. Remus watched as Hermione hugged first Harry then her husband before leading the way outside. They passed Draco in the hall, and Remus felt the wolf try and lunge. He contained the impulse and instead took Hermione's hand.

They made their solemn way to a clearing behind the Manor. Remus kept his back turned as a blushing Hermione removed her clothes and folded them. Remus had taken a good hour to convince her it was foolish to transform in them. He quickly shed his own and hesitated before turning around.

Both Hermione and Remus stood awkwardly trying not to look at one another. Neither said a word until they simultaneously gasped as the moon came out and the transformation began. Remus vaguely heard Hermione's scream before his own pain overloaded his ears.

/ / / /

Severus watched Hermione go out the door hand in hand with the werewolf. He cringed. With her father. He turned away quickly, shrugging out of Albus' attempt at an embrace. Dinner had been tense enough with no one talking and Albus trying to convey his sympathy. He slammed his door and leaned back against it, closing his eyes. His fist banged against the wood and he cursed as pain radiated up his arm. Slowly, he slid to the floor, head in hands.

Lucius found him there an hour later. With effort, he pulled the man to his feet. "You can't stay there thinking about it all night." Lucius sighed as Severus pulled away and snarled.

"I bloody well can, you overgrown peacock!"

"You are not going to spend the next 10 hours wallowing. I won't let you." Lucius smirked and pulled out a large bottle of amber liquid. "Instead, I propose we drink till we can't hear the banshee's on the roof." It was their old saying. They'd used it since Hogwarts whenever one or both of them needed to get pissed – fast, hard, and for extended periods of time. Severus eyed the man and bottle with a mix of contempt, resignation, and gratefulness. He pulled himself up straight, glared harder, and swept through his borrowed chambers and into Lucius' sitting room.

"That will take more than one bottle."

/ / / /

Harry bade Dumbledore good night and went to his room. His mind was on Hermione and he was tempted to transform and go out with her. But he'd not had a chance to tell her or Remus and he knew he'd frighten them if he did it without warning. And he'd never hear the end of it. Besides, he'd already let Draco in on his secret. He sort of wanted to keep this to himself for a bit longer. It was one thing for the upper Order members to know, it was another for his whole entourage to find out.

He made his way to his bedroom through the silent dark sitting room, cursing as he tripped over a chair.

"Potter, do be careful or you'll break my furniture."

Harry started and glared into the blackness. "_Lumos_." The room filled with light and revealed Draco lounging on the sofa. "Draco, Merlin's beard, what are you _doing_?"

Draco smirked. "Waiting for you." He got up and moved smoothly over to look out the magical window. "What do you think they're _doing_ out there?" His voice openly conveyed both his worry and curiosity about their two resident werewolves.

Harry moved slowly to stand next to him. "Probably running." Draco looked at him questioningly. Harry shrugged. "I know dad used to run with Remus. I imagine it's a werewolf thing or something."

"They can't just run till dawn!" Draco huffed. "That's stupid."

Harry rolled his eyes. "What do you propose they do? Go see a movie?"

Draco blinked. "What's a movie?"

"Never mind" Harry turned and walked into his bedroom, thinking the blond would just leave.

"Where do you think you are going, Potter?"

"To bed." Harry ignored the boy and proceeded to grab a clean set of pajamas out of a drawer and went into the bathroom. When he came out, Draco was lying in his bed, fluffing a pillow. Harry's pillow.

"What exactly are you doing?"

Draco smirked and lay back, tugging the covers into place. "I'm getting comfortable." He pointed at his shoes lying next to the bed.

"In my bed." Harry crossed his arms and glared.

"Technically, I own it, Potter."

"That is not the point." Harry angrily grabbed the blankets and ripped them off the bed. Draco had, blessing, left his robes on, thank Merlin. "Out, ferret."

"Harry…" The blond whined. "I hate that nick-name."

"And I hate sharing. Now out!" Harry pointed towards the door, still clutching the bed clothes in his other hand.

Draco slowly dropped his smirk. "Harry…" He sighed. "Look, I'm worried about them."

"And sleeping with me is going to help how?" Harry threw the blankets at the other boy's head.

Draco, exasperated, sat up fully. "I don't want to sleep with you, I just want to sleep with you."

Harry looked confused. "What did you eat for dinner, because I think it was spiked."

"I'm not propositioning you, potty-head. I'm telling you I don't want to be alone." Draco huffed. "Gryffindors. You try and be sensitive, and they think you're after sex."

Harry slowly let a cruel grin overtake him. "You meant to tell me that Mr. Cold-and-Cruel is _scared_ to be alone?"

"Not scared." Draco pouted. "Just, I'd rather not spend the whole night up pacing and wondering about Remus, all right?"

"I'm not planning on distracting you."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Is all you think about sex? For a virgin, you're awful preoccupied."

"Draco, you're lying in my bed!" Harry cried out, a slight blush heating his cheeks.

"I'd thought we'd ascertained that it is my bed."

"Draco." Harry growled in warning. "Out."

"Oh, all right. I'll leave." The boy got up slowly and slunk toward the door, not bothering to pick up his shoes.

Harry watched him go then turned to start putting his bed back into order. It took about two minutes for the guilt to set in, and another two before he realized that he really didn't want to be alone and worrying either. In frustration, he turned and opened the door into his sitting room, bent on spending the night reading in there away from the pictures of his friends he'd set out all over the bedroom.

"I knew you'd change your mind!" Draco bounced into the bedroom before Harry had a chance to realize that the blond had been waiting just inside the sitting room for Harry to open the bedroom door. With a wand flick, Draco changed his robes into his long black night shirt. "How about we play Scrabble?"

Harry's jaw dropped. "Malfoy, that's a muggle game."

"Not the way I play it." Draco smirked and snapped his fingers. A large colorful board fell onto the middle of the bed. "Pick your side, Potty."

/ / / /

"Albus, this is ridiculous!" Severus growled early the next morning as the headmaster dangled two hangover cures just out of reach of the two moaning Slytherins. "I brewed it, so hand it over!"

"Really, my boy, you should learn self restraint."

Lucius snorted then groaned. Without comment, he summoned a house-elf with two cures from his own potions stores. "Never trust someone with a beard." He mumbled as he swallowed one bottle then handed the other to Severus who downed it gratefully.

Albus sulked for a moment. "You really shouldn't facilitate him, Lucius."

"On the contrary, old man, he was facilitating me." Lucius slowly stood up and grimaced. "Even with a potion, I'm stiff."

Severus gingerly hauled himself up. "We're getting to old to pass out on stone floors." Severus stretched then looked towards the window. "Have they come back yet?"

Albus shook his head no. "I imagine they fell asleep sometime in the night. The transformation would have wakened them, but I know in the past that Remus has a tendency to fall back asleep almost instantly once the pain passes. I'd imagine Hermione will be much the same."

"Should we go out and get them?" Severus was already headed for his cape as he asked. Albus put out an arm and stopped him.

"No, let them be." He gently patted his former student's shoulder and led him back into the couple's borrowed rooms, leaving Lucius to dress for the day in peace. "When they feel up to it, they'll come in. Sometimes, Remus stays out all day long. Often, werewolves don't feel up to socializing the morning after a transformation."

Severus nodded glumly and changed himself, foregoing a shower for a quick cleaning charm.

They met Lucius in the hall and the three stood awkwardly looking around. "Where are the boys?" Lucius asked, suspicious. They were getting along too well for his peace of mind. There was no telling what mischief the two could be getting into.

"I believe they were in Harry's room when I retired last night." Albus offered a twinkle in his eye.

"Perhaps we should make sure they haven't killed each other." Severus suggested, only partially joking.

Albus lead the way into the sitting room he shared with the young Gryffindor. The old wizard knocked on the bedroom door, but received no answer. Shrugging, he gently tapped the door with his wand causing it to swing open.

Severus had to hold back his laughter and Lucius looked like a kneazle that just ate the snidget. The two boys were out cold on the bed, Harry's head resting on Draco's hip. A slew of muggle and wizard board games and cards were strewn over the bed and both boys wands were clutched tightly in their hands. The tale-tell after effects of minor hexes still tinged their hair, skin, and clothing. Draco's night shirt was now a bright red, and Harry's hair was green with silver moon shapes moving erratically over it.

Albus was the first to loose control, letting out a rather un-wizardly giggle. Draco woke with a start at the odd sound and his eyes went large as he realized who was standing next to the bed and what was almost on top of him. Harry mumbled something, rolled over, and buried his head in the red nightshirt.

"Ah, Harry, wake up. Please." Draco mumbled, nudging Harry with his left hand, the one not clutching his wand.

"Ron," Harry mumbled, slapping Draco's thigh in an effort to get his 'pillow' to be less lumpy, "it's not morning yet. I don't hear Neville falling out of bed yet." Harry started relentlessly pummeling his 'pillow' causing the blond to yip. "It's not nice to charm pillows to be hard, Ron." Harry's head was still stubbornly buried in the nightshirt despite Draco's now frantic tugging at the other boy's shoulders.

"That is not your pillow, Potter. That happens to be me!" Draco shrieked and rolled violently away from his still flailing bed mate and onto the floor. "And I'm not RON!" Draco's voice was now astonishingly loud. "Now wake up or I swear by my family's long and deserved reputation for nasty dealings, you are going to find yourself in a guest room of an entirely different nature!" Draco paused. "With chains of the unfriendly sort!"

Lucius and Severus snickered as Harry slowly yawned, sat up, and blinked dumbly at the room. Fumbling, he managed to find his glasses in the chaos on his bed. It took him several more yawns to realize exactly what was happening.

"Hello, Headmaster." Harry tiredly mumbled, interrupted by yet another yawn. "Is everything all right? Why is everyone in my room?"

Draco's jaw dropped at Potter's lack of embarrassment. "Wha…" He stuttered, watching as Harry lay back down, stretched, and knocked several game boards onto the floor.

"Quite all right, Harry." Albus twinkled full force. "We were just concerned when you and Draco were late meeting us for breakfast."

"Breakfast?" Harry sat up fully awake. "Thanks for the wake-up, Professor!" The boy bolted out of bed and into the bathroom. Clothes magically flying after him as he went.

Draco sat back down on the bed and blinked. Lucius and Severus shook their heads and left, hopping to get coffee as soon as wizardly possible.

"I don't get it." The blond boy looked questioningly at the headmaster. "Potter didn't even seem surprised!"

The headmaster sighed and sat down on the bed next to Draco. "I assume you reacted with embarrassment because you are not use to waking up in bed with someone, especially with your professors standing over you. No matter how innocent the situation."

Draco snorted. "That would be accurate. It's a common nightmare for most teenagers, I can assure you."

"I do remember that one, actually. There was this one instance when Professor Craglygam found Drusilla Amberpot and I in the rose garden…" Draco's sudden green tinge stopped the headmaster from finishing his reminisces. "Yes, well, at least it was entirely innocent for you." The headmaster smiled kindly as Draco got even greener. "But you see, Harry's rather used to this sort of thing."

Draco raised a suspicious eyebrow. Albus sighed. "Ronald Weasley has taken to sleeping next to Harry whenever a vision is likely to take place. That way, he can wake Harry before things get too nasty and record whatever Harry sees in the vision. Ronald has most likely saved Harry's life. When he sees a vision of Voldemort, Harry feels the curses, as I am sure you figured out during your fifth year. On some nights, I doubt Harry could have survived the pain with his mind intact. During the first half of the year, when Harry was still learning Occlumency, Ron's role was vital in helping with the visions. Now that Harry has mastered the art, Ron no longer has to guard against visions."

"Only nightmares." Harry interrupted as he came back into the room, showered and dressed. "You'd better clean-up, Draco. We should be downstairs in case Hermione and Remus come in."

Draco nodded solemnly and got up. He paused just outside the doorway to the bedroom. "Thanks for keeping me company, Harry." His back was turned to the room as he said it, detracting only slightly from the words. Especially considering it was a Malfoy thanking someone in their own house.

"No problem." Harry shot back. Draco walked away quickly, not saying anything else or acknowledging the words. After the boy was fully out of the quarters, Harry turned an accusing eye to the headmaster. "Why did you tell him all that? Did he really have to know everything about my pathetic life?"

"He needs to know you're human too, Harry. Draco's response this morning was, to him, a weakness as was his need for company last night. Now, he does not view it as such. Not in comparison with your own need."

"Sacrificing one boy's self-esteem for another?" Harry angrily banished the game boards and started making the bed the muggle way, to avoid using any more magic while he was angry. He could tell he was casting Dark, and he meant what he had said about living in the Light.

Albus sighed. "I assumed it was not private information. All of Gryffindor is aware."

Harry shoved the blankets into place. "That is not the point! They only know because you won't let me sleep with a silencing charm!" He barely stopped himself from throwing a pillow at the old man's head. "You keep knowledge from me, yet you'll tell my arch-nemesis about my private life!"

Albus quirked an eyebrow. "Arch-nemesis? I was not aware Draco Malfoy out ranked Lord Voldemort, Peter Pettigrew, or Bellatrix Lestrange."

Harry deflated instantly. "Former demi-arch-nemesis."

"Is it so bad to trust him?"

Harry looked up sadly. "Everything's changing. Ron's still treating Hermione weird and not trusting her. I'm living at Malfoy Manor, and I…I guess I'm just tired of it all going so fast. Fighting with Draco is familiar. It's cozy somehow, safe."

Albus gently patted the boy's back as he led the way down to the dinging room. "Change is inevitable. And perhaps in Draco you will find a friend more steadfast than Mr. Weasley, though I hate to say such things. As good as Ron has been for you, I fear Mr. Weasley has a great deal of growing up to do to catch up with you and Mrs. Snape."

Harry, reluctantly, had to agree.

/ / / /

They had just sat down to breakfast, when a bedraggled and worn Remus and Hermione came slowly into the room. Wordlessly, Hermione fell into Severus' arms, silently sobbing. He didn't say anything, just closed his eyes. A single tear trickled out of his tightly shut lids.

Remus moved to his normal seat, collapsing gratefully into the chair as Draco rushed to pull it out for him. Wearily, he nodded in thanks to the boy, offering him a tight smile. Albus watched everyone, his penetrating gaze measuring their reactions and plotting Merlin knows what. Not saying anything, Severus half carried Hermione away from the table. Remus watched them go with obvious remorse.

"It's all my fault." His voice was gravely and strained. "If I wasn't her father, she'd never have had to go through this."

"If you weren't here father, Remus, she would never have been born." Albus wisely reminded the professor. "And she is a far site better off knowing the truth than living with the constant questions she had before." Albus looked directly at Harry. "Something I am just beginning to understand."

"What kind of a life have I given her, Albus?" Remus missed the silent communication and plowed on with his own insecurities. "What sort of life can she have now?"

Draco grimaced at the hopeless tone. "Remus, Hermione isn't about to give up on her life, please don't ask her to. And don't give up on yourself."

Harry nodded in agreement. "She'll get used to it in time."

Remus pushed away from the table and struggled to leave with what dignity he could while badly limping. "You never get used to it."

/ / / /

Severus gently helped Hermione onto the bed and into a clean set of pajamas, emblazoned much to his disgust with dancing Gryffindor lions. The girl was sniffling and yawing at the same time as Crookshanks curled up against her side. Severus didn't even remember packing the animal. They had planned to have McGonagall look after the fur ball. He left her and the creature's side to rummage for Hermione's hairbrush in the bag on the dresser. Slowly, he began to pull the twigs, grass, and leaves out of the bushy mass of hair on his wife's head before vainly trying to comb it out.

"I do believe we might have to shave you, considering we'll have to repeat this for another two mornings and then three times a month from now on." He muttered as a spider peaked out long enough to bite him before diving back into the mess.

Hermione chuckled and sobbed at the same time, managing at least to quell her leaking eyes a slight bit. "You are a wizard, try using magic." She croaked out.

"Quite right." Severus pulled his wand and muttered a series of long spells causing the brown strands to shake and move. Hermione shrieked and then started giggling.

"It tickles!" She grabbed at her husband's wand, but he jumped away just in time. Another spell later, and her hair was back to something approximating normal, for her at least. She looked up at him and smiled gratefully. "Thanks. I needed that. The laugh I mean, not the Medusa recreation."

"Any time." He sat down next to her, taking her hand in his. "Are you all right?"

Hermione's smile slowly vanished. "I'm fine." Severus raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Okay, not fine, but I'll survive. I don't really have a choice, do I?" Her eyes hardened. "And don't even think of giving me any more potions. As much as you'd like it to be true, they don't fix everything. I need time, not narcotics."

Severus sighed. "I know."

"You just feel useless." She offered.

"I wouldn't say that." Severus responded, indignantly.

Hermione snorted. "No, you wouldn't." She roughly kicked at the bed clothes until she managed to squirm her way into them. "Thank you for caring, Severus. But I can't exist on nothing but your concoctions. I'm not weak minded or willed. I'll not allow my self to become dependent on mood altering substances to get through the day. Especially not to make you feel better about your role in my life." She paused. "But you can bring me chocolate. In large expensive batches."

Severus' eyes warmed a bit but his tone remained brisk. "Just keep in mind your figure." Hermione's pillow hit him on the head. "I'll take that as my queue to leave you alone?" He started getting up with the intention of letting her rest until it was time to leave for the next transformation.

"No." Hermione placed a fake pout on her lips. "You are curling up right here with me for the next few hours, oh dutiful husband."

Agreeing without resentment, Severus climbed in next to her spooning up behind her. Knocking Crookshanks off the bed in the process.

"Severus?"

"Yes child?"

"It will all be all right won't it?"

Severus frowned into her hair "I don't honestly know. But I'll do my best to make it that way. As will you. And in the end, that will have to suffice." He nodded at the cat as it jumped back up and glared at him from Hermione's other side.

Hermione fell asleep after that, and didn't wake up till close to nightfall. Severus spent the time holding her and wishing he could take her place and suffer for her. She was too young, and to sweet, to face this nightmare. But he couldn't, so he woke her in time to take the Wolfsbane potion. Not a minute later, Remus knocked on their door. Severus handed him his dose. Remus took the goblet with little protest then waited as Hermione hesitated in the doorway.

"Severus?" Her voice was halted and higher than normal. "Last night was horrible. I…" She gulped and stopped.

Remus sighed and turned to his son-in-law and former classmate. The thought was still foreign to him and made him feel half ill, half giddy with Marauder style possibilities. "I think Hermione might find it easier if you were there. It is sometimes that way with bonded werewolves, or so I've read." Remus gently smiled as Hermione nodded her head slightly. They both knew how frightened Severus was of their kind, Remus in particular. As such, they both were surprised when Severus didn't bolt. The man's eyes widened and he took a small half step backwards. Remus quickly moved to clarify as he saw Hermione shrink into herself. "Not during the transformation. Just afterwards. Whatever Dumbledore did during your bonding is making her nervous without her mate. At least, I think that's why she spent the whole night sitting outside your window looking up."

Severus looked at his young wife. She kept her gaze fixed on the floor and shuffled her feet. "Do you want me to meet you after moonrise?" He managed to keep the fear mostly out of his voice, but he knew they could smell it. For some reason, childhood terrors were worse than facing Voldemort, and the idea of willingly coming face to face with a werewolf was making his knees weak in fear. But he'd do it if she asked. At least, that way he wouldn't be worrying about her all night.

"Could you handle it?" She asked quietly, hope behind the words.

In response, Severus gathered his cloak and led the way downstairs.

Severus waited just inside the Manor till well after the moon had risen. Steeling himself, he cautiously opened the door. The silver tinged light was turning every bush and tree into an eerie specter. Severus was rattled despite his best efforts to stay calm. He'd faced down the Dark Lord without fear, why was he reduced to a useless version of Longbottom by his own wife and father-in-law?

Calling on every ounce of courage he had, he stepped out of the doorway. He'd made his way a few feet from the house when a long low howl made the hair on his neck stand on end. Without thinking, Severus turned to rush back into the safety of the house only to find a large grey wolf blocking his path. The creature's amber eyes watched him and Severus fought the urge to run for the gates. A cold nose bumped his hand and he looked down in fear to find a slightly smaller wolf nudging at him and whimpering.

"Hermione?" He croaked and the animal whimpered harder than laid down at his feet, rolling over and exposing its belly. The other wolf stayed in place, but mirrored the action.

Severus stood stock still for quite some time, watching the wolves. After what felt like an eternity, he bent and ran a hand hesitantly over the gray fur. Hermione gave what could only be called a happy dog sigh and Severus relaxed. Remus slowly inched closer and Severus gently patted his head as well.

"This," the potion master mumbled, "is going to take some time getting used to." Both the werewolves growled in agreement.

Severus ended up falling asleep under an oak curled up with the two werewolves. He awoke shortly before dawn to find them slipping away. Hermione glanced back at him and whimpered before leaping into the bushes. Seconds later, her screams and Remus' split the quiet dawn. Severus rushed over to the sound and watched in horror as the two transformed back into humans. When the process stopped and their bones settled back into place, he found their robes and with a spell dressed them both before they regained awareness.

It took several minutes for the pain to recede enough to allow them to wake up. "Thank you." Remus' voice croaked out. "I…"

"It's all right, Remus." Severus spoke softly. "Go back to sleep. I'll make sure you both are all right." Remus slowly closed his eyes in response and curled into a ball, the pain still nearly unbearable. Hermione was still unconscious. Carefully casting, Severus levitated the two and got them into the Manor. There was no way he could carry them both and he feared he'd do more harm than good by trying. It was less jarring to move them magically anyway.

Making a snap decision, he transported them both into Remus' room. Once he'd tucked them into the large bed, Severus sat down in the armchair close by and fell asleep.

"Severus?" He woke up to Hermione's worried eyes gazing down at him. "Are you all right?"

He reached out and pulled her down onto his lap. "You are an amazing witch, Hermione Snape. And it is my honor to call you my wife." He held her tight and whispered in her ear. "You are stronger than I am child, and for that reason, you will overcome this."

She hugged him back. "I know. I'll make the most of it, somehow. We'll make the most of it, I mean. I need you." She kissed him hard. "And you are braver than I have ever suspected."

"No." Severus shook his head. "I was frightened half to death."

"Yet you stayed." She got slowly off his lap and moved to lie back down next to the still sleeping Remus. "And you aren't frightened anymore. I can smell it." And Severus realized she was right, for the most part. He wasn't scared of Remus when the man was, well a man. At least not now. He used to find it hard to be in the room with him, ever since his fifth year. Now, he could mentally separate the man from the beast from the controlled animal. It made a considerable difference.

The third and last transformation for the month went by even more smoothly, with Severus staying just the other side of the bushes during the change. Although, he was certain he would have nightmares for the rest of his life of the screams he heard that month, and would continue to hear every month as long as Hermione was forced to change. The sound of Hermione's flesh shifting, bones cracking under the pressure. Her voice morphing from a human wail of agony to the cry of an animal in pain. And her eyes, staring at him, so human from such a feral face. It still frightened him, but he stayed. He had to.

Lucius made no comment on his choice of evening activities, but Draco's eyes thanked him loudly, as did Harry's. Albus, the old busy body, simply smirked and offered to loan him a warmer cape. They went back to Hogwarts after the last night, and when they got back to their rooms, Severus made it a point to throw out all the extra potions he'd made for Hermione. They wouldn't be needing them.

/ / / /

"Why must I continue this? Really, what is there to gain?" Voldemort asked, his voice serious yet pained. "There is no conceivable reason to continue after Potter like this. And there is little chance of our successfully gaining control of the wizarding world this way. We should have started by setting me up to run for Minister of Magic instead of all this Dark Lord foolishness." He's eyes flashed green in the light without the special charm to turn them blood red. In private he left it off, it hurt his eyes and reduced his vision. "How much longer do I have to pretend to be a homicidal maniac? Killing people is getting boring."

"As long as I tell you to, you will keep it up." A woman's voice came from the shadows by the door. "You'll wear my charms, slither around, murder, torture, and be a general menace till the time is right." There was a pregnant pause. "Ambition should be made of sterner stuff, Tom. Do not tell me you find it all too boring, I see how much you enjoy watching…things." She smiled cruelly in the dark, her midnight gown slowly slipping out from the darkness, making the shadow itself seem to move.

He glared at her as she glided over to him. "What is stopping me from taking the Death Eaters and leaving you? They follow the Dark Lord, not the hidden female they have never even suspected of existing. I am the power the wizarding world fears, not you."

A low laugh sounded from every shadow in the darkened parlor, as if the woman could control the darkness itself. "Fool. Without me, there is no Dark Lord. You, Tom, are a creation of my hard work, a mere actor. I am the true Voldemort and have been since our school days. I created your image, trained you in the Dark Arts, gave you the tools you use to make those pathetic creatures beg and crawl." She moved closer, gently caressing his face with a pale hand. "You've trusted me for all these years, Tom. The only loss you've suffered was the Potter boy."

"And I was virtually dead for over a decade because of your irrational obsession with him." Tom glared hard at her, trying to will himself to pull away, and failing. "Where were you when I was lost? Why didn't you come for me then? You waited till I had already regained power before showing yourself."

She knelt down and placed her head in his lap. "You didn't hear the prophecy, love. I couldn't let him hurt you." He grunted at the stupidity of that statement. She hushed him with a gentle voice and careful caress to his thigh. "I know, I know. I should have sent someone. But I never suspected an infant would be able to do what he did. Or his mother for that matter, lousy mudblood. Perhaps we can win him to our side, now that Lucius is working with him. Although there is a chance my son will yet prove worthy given time." She sighed and nuzzled into his lap. "But that is in the past, Tom. We're together again, you and I. You did well on your own, managing the resurrection and regrouping without me. But you lacked purpose, you had no direction. Now that we have been reunited, we can move ahead."

Tom reached a hand down to finger her long graying hair. "You have a purpose for us then?" His anger at her quickly fled. He could never stay angry with her for long. Her presence was the only bright spot he'd ever had in his entire life.

Unknown to Tom, her eyes turned a natural blood red as a cruel smile twisted her lips. She leaned in closer, kissing the folds of his robe causing him to quiver in anticipation. "Oh yes, Tom my love. I have a purpose." She pressed into him further, her fingers starting to move the fabric. "And it is time we got on with it."


	5. Chapter Four: Tutti

Complications of Birth

Complications of Birth - REVISED

Author: Saavik

Disclaimer: I am not making money off of this. I'd like to, but men in black suits would come and take me away.

Summary: Sequel to Contemplations of Birth and the WIP Convergence of Birth. Now in seventh year, our intrepid cast faces the ultimate test of their loyalty, strength, and sanity.

Pairings: HG/SS, HP/LM, DM/RL, GW/CC, and others

Warnings: Spoilers for Book Five. For the rest, see chapter one.

Chapter IV: Tutti (Play Simultaneously)

WARNING: SLASH SMUT IN THIS CHAPTER!

Two weeks after Hermione, Severus, and Albus left, the shit hit the proverbial fan. Harry woke up at three a.m. on a Tuesday morning to find Draco pouring the glass of water from the nightstand onto his head.

"Harry," The boy's voice was shaking and he was clutching his arm. "He's calling. I don't have time to warn Remus…" The boys had fallen asleep studying transfiguration the night before. Draco had woken up in agony on the foot of Harry's bed, confused and frightened half out of his mind.

Harry grabbed for his glasses and helped rush the boy into the hall and to his rooms. Draco motioned towards the wardrobe, and Harry fished around until he found the Death Eater garb in the back. He carefully helped the boy pull the bulky things on and handed Draco the mask.

Draco's hands shook as he took it; his face was pale and his grey eyes showed the intense pain that was undoubtedly shooting through the Mark. Draco hadn't summoned his robes with his Mark, not wanting to waste the magical energy when they were only feet away. Besides, he was scared and he doubted he could have managed it properly. Not that he'd tell Potter that.

"He's not happy." Harry mumbled as Draco staggered into the hallway, despite holding onto Harry's arm.

"When is He ever?" Lucius' voice was cold. His mask was already on. He took Draco's arm away from Harry and steadied his son. "He called you as well?"

Draco sneered at the stupidity of the question and didn't bother responding before reluctantly putting his own mask on. His hands almost making it rattle.

Harry followed the blonds down the stairs and into the front hall, his own heart in his throat. Lucius turned to him and Harry shuddered at seeing the man's eyes through the mask. It reminded him to much of the other times he'd seen Lucius with the mask, the times when the man's wand had been pointed at him. "Harry, don't go back to sleep. I'd rather you not suffer another vision." The words did not fit the old image, and Harry swallowed the lump in his throat and tried not to let his fear show in his too expressive eyes.

Harry nodded towards the older wizard, but didn't bother to tell the man he no longer needed to be asleep to have a vision. Not since before the end of fifth year had that been necessary. Lucius and Draco had enough to worry about without him adding his own problems to the pile.

Without waiting any longer, Lucius hauled his son out the door and apparated away with him. Harry stood in the doorway and stared out into the darkness for a minute, framed in the light of entryway, before he slowly closed the door and made his way back up to his rooms. He knew he should wake Remus up and tell him what was happening. Both Malfoys being summoned, and Voldemort being ticked off, was not a good combination. But Remus had been unusually withdrawn since the full moon, and Harry didn't want the man to worry about the blonds when there was nothing he could do about it. Remus had been avoiding Draco like the plague lately anyway. And Harry was not about to let Remus smell the jolt of terror that seeing Lucius in the mask had sent through him. Some things he'd rather just deal with alone.

Harry charmed his clothes, hair, and bed dry and refilled his water glass. He carefully moved the textbooks, that he and Draco had been looking over before they had fallen asleep, off the bed, setting them on the table in the sitting room. He fished his half-finished essay out from under the bed and pressed the wrinkles out of it with his hand. His scar started to itch and Harry calmly laid down on the now empty bed. He knew what was coming. Pulling out his wand, he cast a silencing charm on his room so Remus wouldn't come running when he started screaming. Or worse, laughing. With the first real pangs of pain in his scar, Harry's fear seemed to vanish, and grim acceptance took its place.

Harry relaxed himself on the bed and cleared his mind on the off chance that the Occlumency would work and block the vision. It seemed to keep Voldemort out of his head, but it didn't work to keep Harry from getting into the Dark Lord's. But he never stopped trying. As long as he could keep disinterested, he stood a chance. Eventually, however, Harry's curiosity got the better of him, as it always did. With a sickening lurch, Harry found himself staring out at a mass of Death Eaters. Lucius and Draco were in the back of the hall, blond hair peaking out from around their masks.

"My faithful," The cold tone of his voice startled Harry and the boy mentally cringed as he felt his awareness of self leave him faster than the last time. This time, he let himself float into Voldemort's mind and didn't fight it. It wasn't any use anyway. Not when he was this far inside. In for a penny, and all that.

"I have a mission for you." Harry/Voldemort stood up and walked down from the dais and towards the back of the room and the Malfoys. "Lucius, I want you to take four or five of the new recruits, including Draco, and make a raid on the Finnegans. The boy is out of the country with his mother, but that Muggle father of his is home. I want the man dead, and anyone else that is in the house. I do believe the Muggle mother-in-law is visiting." The Dark Lord gave a sinister laugh. "The witch has doubted my return. I want to make her mistake quite clear to her." Voldemort's face split into a cruel grin. "There are still a few that have not come to see the light." He threw down a copy of the Daily Prophet and the entire hall cringed. The cover story was yet another article questioning the Dark Lord's return, stating that Sirius Black had staged the entire Ministry debacle two years prior. Very few believed the article, and Harry/Voldemort wanted the last holdouts to see the light, or rather dark, of truth. The author of the current source of the Dark Lord's displeasure happened to be a cousin to the Finnegan clan. "You have my permission to have some fun, Lucius. In fact, I expect it."

Lucius clamped a hand on Draco as the boy shivered violently. "Yes, my lord." Lucius bowed and started to back Draco out of the room. He pointed into the crowd and several of the smaller Death Eaters hesitantly started to follow them out.

"Report back with the bodies, Lucius." Harry/Voldemort turned around and went back to the throne. The small party exited the room and the Dark Lord turned to the rest of his followers. "While we wait," He waved his hand and several bound muggles, street people by their looks, were hauled in. "The floors could use a re-coating. Blood does wonders for the wood tone."

When Harry finally snapped out of the vision, he was shaking from the Cruciatus and crying from the images of Seamus' father's body, blackened and twisted alongside his grandmother, an aunt, and two cousins. Lucius had reported that the youngest cousin had somehow managed to escape them. He blamed one of the recruits, someone from Durmstrang that had just graduated that summer. Voldemort had turned his wand silently onto the young man and he dropped dead in a flash of green. The Dark Lord had then cast the Cruciatus at Lucius, and the man hit the side of his face on the dais as he went down. Harry had felt a brief flash of awareness at the point, but his immersion into Voldemort was so complete at the time that it did him little good other than make his stomach turn now.

"Harry?" Draco was perched at the end of his bed, robes still on. "Harry, you had a vision didn't you?" The boy's face was streaked with tears and he had a smear of blood on the right side of his nose. "You cast a silencing charm…"

Harry nodded and Draco hugged him for all he was worth as Harry broke into his own tears. "Oh Merlin, Draco…"

"I don't want to go back." Draco shuddered. "I…I'm not going to be able to face Finnegan in September. Not after what I just did." Harry didn't ask what Draco had done. The family was dead, all of Seamus' father's side dead in one attack. And Draco had been a part of, Lucius had led it. But Harry had given the order, or at least the body he'd been in had, and he'd been powerless to stop it.

"Why?" Draco clutched at Harry harder. "Why?"

Harry coughed as another after shock from the Unforgivables ran through him. "If we understood it, we'd be Him, Draco." He forced the tears down. "You did what you had to and came home."

"But," Draco pulled back and looked down at his robes, pulling them away from his body. The blood on them showing up as damp spots on the deep black.

Harry pulled his wand out from under his pillow and cleaned the robes, banishing them back to the wardrobe and replacing them with a set of his own pajamas in a neutral blue color. "You came back." Harry's voice was firm. "And you're going to help us stop Voldemort, stop the attacks."

"But I was part of it!" Draco's eyes were wide. "I killed someone!"

Harry cringed at having his worst fears confirmed. "They would have died had you disobeyed. Someone else would have carried out the order and you'd be dead too. Most likely Lucius as well. Then they would have attacked the Manor and Remus and I would have followed you." Harry sighed and helped Draco stand up. "Come on, I'll lend you some Dreamless Sleep Potion." He led the boy out into the sitting room after retrieving a bottle Snape had slipped him during his stay. Harry opened the door into the hall and started steering Draco towards his room when they heard the piano.

Draco stood stock still and closed his eyes. "Father had it worse than I did. He managed to let the youngest get away, but he had to deflect the blame onto the other recruit. A life for a life."

Harry nodded "I didn't see your 'mission', but I was there in Voldemort's body the whole time. What He saw, I saw." Draco's pale eyes opened and he grimly took the bottle from Harry.

"Are you ready to do this?" He nodded towards the stairs. "This is what you've been waiting for." Draco sounded bitter and Harry cringed. "Sorry." Draco muttered and glanced towards Remus' rooms. "Go on and see if you can pull him out of it. I've got to report what happened to Remus before I take this." He hefted the potion. "I'll keep him from looking for you as long as I can."

Harry nodded. "I wasn't waiting for you to have to…" Harry sighed. Yes he was. He was waiting for Lucius to play the piano and he only played it after nights like this. But Draco took pity on him and gave a slow half smile as he coaxed Harry to the staircase.

"Just be careful, Potter. One person's blood on my hands is enough. I'd hate to have to add yours if you hurt him."

With that, the blond turned and slipped into Remus' rooms and Harry started down the staircase, one foot slowly following the other.

Lucius was just sitting there when Harry found him, after leaving Draco behind in the hallway upstairs. Harry's legs were still shaky from the Cruciatus as he walked slowly towards the still figure on the piano bench, stopping just outside the room. Lucius' black robes were spotted with blood and his long hair was streaked with it. The cuts on his face and hands seemed to stand out in the dim light of the single candle placed on the instrument. Bruises were just starting to form on his cheek, making the older man look even more downtrodden than Harry had ever believed possible.

The sounds had stopped before the boy had reached the bottom of the staircase, and as Harry turned his attention to the piano, he could see bloody smudges on the white keys. He wasn't sure if it was from Lucius or one of the victims of the Revel. There really wasn't any way to tell. With so much death, it really didn't matter.

Harry silently slipped into the music room. He half expected Lucius to stand up and curse him for intruding, but the man just seemed content to stare off in front of him, lost in his own hell. He didn't stir when Harry carefully sat down next to him. He didn't even respond when the boy gently moved his hands so his own could cover the keys.

Harry slowly began to play like he'd planned. It had seemed silly when he'd first thought of it. But, as he let his fingers move over the now red and white keys, it felt right somehow. He'd committed the sheet music to memory over the long practices he'd had with Draco since the music had arrived from Blaise the day after the full moon. He didn't need to fish the sheets out, and he was glad for it. He closed his eyes trying desperately not to miss a note. It seemed vitally important that he do this for Lucius, and do it correctly. If it was possible, Harry willed his magic to aid him and his still inexperienced fingers.

It seemed to work. The last note hung in the still room and Harry opened his eyes. Lucius was still next to him, unmoved. But a long rivulet of tears ran down both the man's cheeks, cutting a clean path through the grime. Silently, Harry moved a hand to the man's shoulder and jumped when Lucius fell into his arms much like Draco had earlier, sobs wracking the aristocratic frame but not a sound coming out.

Harry didn't know what to do. He'd never expected Lucius to break down. So he did what he always had with Hermione, and just held him. The blond clung to him as if Harry was somehow the key to not drowning in his own salty tears. And maybe he was, Harry thought.

Eventually, Lucius pulled back and looked with bloodshot eyes at the boy. The silver orbs were stormy as they flickered over Harry's features, searching for something. Harry held still, wondering what was happening.

Suddenly, Lucius was kissing him. Harry couldn't remember the man getting any closer, or a warning. Just an intense kiss that demanded more than Harry was able to give. It seemed to last forever, and Harry was unsure whether he was enjoying it or not. The wetness still lingering on Lucius' cheeks was distracting him. Vaguely, he wondered if he was only ever to be kissed by weeping people.

When Lucius finally stopped, he rested his head on the boy's shoulder and held it there. The clock in the hall struck six, and Harry reluctantly pushed Lucius off him. Breaking the silence, Harry cautiously spoke. "Lucius, it's late. I should get you to bed." The blond simply maintained the same vacant stormy look as Harry gently pulled him to his feet and lead him up to his room. Wordlessly, Lucius opened the door to his chambers. Harry turned to go, but a strong arm pulled him inside.

/ / / /

Harry awoke and it took a moment for his surroundings to come into focus. This was the second time during the summer he'd woken in bed with a blond and this time he knew for certain it wasn't Ron without even considering hair color. While tall, the redheaded boy was just that, a boy. The body next to his own was certainly not that of a teenager. Lucius was a man and Harry had to shake his head to clear out all the connotations that brought to mind. Even without his glasses, Harry could tell Lucius was beautiful, even after a night of horrors. His fine thin hair was crumpled and ratted around his head, blood spots turning to a dull brown and Harry had to stifle a snort of amusement. At least in sleep, Malfoy's were evidently allowed to be less then perfect. It was most likely the only respite they had after infancy. Harry tentatively touched a strand of the golden stuff and smiled.

All that he could really remember from the night before, after he'd entered Lucius' rooms, was the kiss. Unlike the first, this one was…everything. The room had disappeared. Harry's nervousness and fear of not doing something right had vanished. At the time, Harry hadn't even been aware it was a man he was kissing. Hell, he hadn't even been thinking about Lucius. In fact, he hadn't been thinking much at all. It was just…it was like a bath in magic or something. Harry had nothing to compare it to. He'd heard hushed rumors of magic infusing people…when they…not that they'd had sex. Harry shook his head on the pillow. He'd always assumed people were exaggerating about magic coming out like that. He'd felt something stir during Hermione and Snape's bonding, but that had been a bonding – and Dumbledore was officiating it, one had to expect something weird when the old man was involved. But this was just a kiss. People kissed everyday without magic making their world spin.

After the KISS, as Harry had started to refer to it in his head, the blond had pulled him onto the bed. And then they went to sleep. Harry sighed softly. He was mostly glad Lucius hadn't wanted anything else. It would have felt wrong, like he was taking advantage of the man, to go further. But, looking at the sleeping wizard, Harry felt a slight pang of disappointment. Now, he'd have to face Lucius and what was most likely going to be a nasty lecture and an embarrassing dressing down – in all the wrong ways. And he'd have to suffer through that without even doing anything wrong. But even that thought couldn't chase the boy from the warmth of the covers, even if Lucius was still clad in blood stained and torn robes beside him.

Harry eyed the scant two feet that separated him from the Malfoy family patriarch and closed his eyes. He might as well get as much sleep as possible before all the yelling started. He wiggled his fingers that were holding tightly onto Lucius' hand. If the worst happened, he could always claim he was doing for Lucius what Ron had done for him, all platonically. The man couldn't deny Harry had experience in the comforting department, even if it was from the wrong side.

When Harry opened his eyes again, several hours had passed. And his hand was empty. He squinted then felt his glasses slip onto his face. His eyes came into focus and he saw a now wide awake Lucius staring at him from across the bed. They were lying on their sides, facing one another, the same two feet separating them.

Harry didn't know what to say, so for once he kept his mouth shut. Lucius' eyes weren't giving him a death glare, but they were clearly guarded.

"Harry, would you tell me honestly why you are in my bed?" Lucius asked quietly but then held up a hand to stop any response. "And don't tell me it was to comfort me after last night. I do remember that. I want to know why you bothered, and why you stayed." He paused. "Why you stayed after."

The KISS. Harry mentally added. Why had he stayed after the kiss? Why had he let himself be put in the position to get kissed, twice? Sure, he was attracted to Lucius. But most kids his age had crushes, they knew better than to try and act on them. The overwhelming probability of crushing embarrassment was incentive enough to keep any attraction to yourself, or a select group of chuckling cohorts with similar inclinations. Joking around with Draco was one thing; the real thing was scarier and sitting next to him. Suddenly, Harry wasn't so sure his lusting after the blond was as harmless as he first thought it had been. It had been a game, something to distract him from the seriousness of everything going on. Now, it wasn't a game anymore. Lucius was as real as Voldemort, and with just as much power to hurt Harry

Instead of answering the question, Harry sat up with his back facing the headboard, bringing his knees up to his chest in a subconscious play for protection. "Would you believe me if I said I had no idea?" He watched Lucius out of the corner of his eye. The man seemed to be pondering the question. "Why do you want to know anyway? If Draco's any indication, Malfoy's aren't exactly monks." Harry hugged his knees harder and rested his chin on them. Eyes carefully pointed away from his bed fellow.

Lucius let the second question hang before he slowly and carefully responded. "Because there are several reasons why you could be here. Some are the wrong answer, others the right. My next actions depend on how you answer."

Harry thought that made an odd amount of sense, at least for Malfoy. "Well, I really don't know why I'm here. " The boy hesitated. "I wanted to make sure you were okay, and then…." He cocked his head to the side and peered hesitantly out from under his eyelashes. The light from the windows reflected off the lens in his glasses, temporarily blinding both men.

Lucius nodded slightly, more to regain focus than in response. "That I can gather. But why would you care? I've known you were attracted to me." Lucius smirked arrogantly. "That being only natural. But I'm still not certain why you'd bother to act on it. Now of all times." He waved dismissively at the tell-tale attire.

Harry, still not quite looking the man in the eye, shrugged. "What would the right answer be?"

Lucius shook his head no. "That, Mr. Potter, would be cheating."

Harry snorted. "Alright then, what is the wrong answer?"

Lucius pulled himself up to mirror Harry, staring at the same spot on the wall opposite the bed, knees protectively positioned in front of him. "That depends." He ran a hand over his hair, managing to flatten it a bit. "If you are here on a bet with Draco, you can simply leave."

"I'd never bet about this kind of thing."

"Gryffindors." Lucius smiled thinly.

Harry ignored the slight. "What else?"

Lucius was quiet for a moment. "If you are acting on pity, not only will you leave my bed, but you will leave this house." His voice turned into its usual cold tone.

Harry shuttered. "No. Not pity. Never that." Merlin, he hated being pitied. It was a useless emotion that only dragged people down. He'd never pity Lucius. Hate him, like him, sympathize with him, maybe other things. But never pity.

Lucius seemed to accept that answer, reluctantly. "So you know why you are not here, but have no clue as to _why_?" The glacial edge had crept back out of the man's voice, but there was still an edge of steel there.

Harry hung his head and hugged his knees even closer. "Everything is changing so fast. Hermione marrying Professor Snape, being here, everything else. I…I don't know. For some reason, this doesn't feel as out of control as everything else, at least not in that 'certain death' way most of it does. I can't explain…" Harry trailed off.

Lucius was silent again and Harry wondered if it was time to leave. He was almost ready to move, when Lucius quietly began to speak again. "The right answer could be a lot of things." He moved his head to look directly away from the boy. "If you're here to explore your sexuality, I'd be fine with that. I could understand it even. I'm a relatively safe choice. I can't go to the press and expose you without doing the same thing to myself. I'm a married man, so the question of my expecting a long term relationship from you if you decided you preferred women is negligible and would be easy to dodge. If you're here because you're a horny teenager and I was the best option, or the most willing out of the men in the house, I could accept that too. I've never been faithful to Narcissa for much the same set of reasons."

Harry turned to look at the back of Lucius' head. "And what if it's something other than those three? Something more intangible?"

Lucius swiveled his head to look Harry in the eye. "That, I'm not sure I could accept, but I am also not sure I could refuse." The ice was back full force and the grey eyes were guarded even more than when Harry had first woken up.

They sat there like that, face to face in silence, until the clock on the wall showed it was almost time for lunch. Certain that Draco would have kept Remus occupied till the noon meal, Harry was still concerned that the other two didn't begin to worry. Or that an irate werewolf didn't break free and come charging in to rescue his student from a fate worse than death. Sensing the same thing, Lucius carefully, and rather painful after the night's cursing, stood up off the bed and moved to find clothing. He left Harry still sitting on the bed. When he heard water running, Harry got up and silently left the master's quarters. His dismissal clear if unvoiced.

He slipped into his own room down the hall and found a clean set of robes. Showering and changing, Harry made his way downstairs. Draco and Remus were already sitting down when he got there. Taking one look at the expression on Harry's face, the other two left him alone. Lucius never came down.

When lunch was over, Remus approached Harry timidly, asking how he was. Draco had informed him of the summoning and Harry's vision the night before, making it clear that the Gryffindor wanted to be left alone for a time. Dutifully, Harry reported what he had seen so Remus could tell Dumbledore. But he stopped at coming out of the vision and before he had cried in Draco's arms. That was just plain embarrassing. He never even did that with _Ron_. Remus didn't push, and Harry was able to return to his rooms, lessons for the day being canceled. But the werewolf's protective and suspicious gaze followed him even after he'd made it up the stairs.

He made it into his sitting room, slamming the door and leaning against it, repeatedly banging his head against the wood. He felt like he was running from Remus, but some things he just didn't think he could talk about just yet. Especially not when the professor had his own problems in that department. Harry slowly stopped smashing his head into the wood and opened his eyes to find Lucius standing in the middle of his room next to the couch, watching him pensively. Harry jumped a good three feet.

"You forgot to ask me why." The blond said quietly, a soft smirk on his face.

"Why what, Mr. Malfoy?" Harry gulped and felt for all the world like a Hufflepuff as a deep blush crept over his face.

Lucius smiled sadly. "Harry, after waking up in my bed, you get the right to call me Lucius to my face when we are alone. It's a generally accepted practice in polite society."

Harry snorted at the limitations and the notion of 'polite society' having rules for this sort of thing. As far as he was concerned, the whole situation was something pretty far from polite.

Lucius eyed him carefully before answering the earlier question and ignoring the snort. "You haven't asked me why I did anything. Why did I let you stay? Why did I kiss you? Why that song? Why." The man's posture was so perfectly straight it gave Harry a neck ache.

"That's a lot to get into so early in the morning." Harry tried his best to smile jokingly back, hoping to defuse some of the tension swarming in the room. And maybe get Lucius to relax a bit.

Lucius studied him for a moment. "You still must want to know."

"Only what you want to tell me." Harry sat down on the sofa. "Look, I've had more than my share of people trying to prod answers out of me. I know it doesn't always work that way. If you want to talk about something, I'm all ears. But I'm not going to pester you. I figure, you've gotten on this long without me, you can keep it up a while longer."

"Ah, but you felt the need to play for me." Lucius sat down next to him, his leg touching Harry's. Every move was slow and calculated, fluid and painfully erotic somehow.

Harry pretended not to notice. "I thought you might…" Harry gulped. "I thought it might help to have someone finish the song for you. Seeing how you couldn't, for whatever reason."

Lucius nodded slowly and gently reached out for Harry's hand. It was several minutes later that the blond finally seemed to come to a decision. His back relaxed slightly, and his eyes took on a less guarded look.

"I was fairly young, before Hogwarts. Mother took me into Muggle London. She liked to look at the windows downtown during Christmas. It was snowing. There was this little shop there. They were playing that song. I remembered thinking it was pretty. When we got home, father was angry. He cursed mother for taking me out among muggles. What would everyone think? The whole time she was screaming, I kept running the song through my head. I was young and I hadn't paid that much attention in the shop. I could only remember one part of it." Lucius closed his eyes, trying to remember the words to the melody his mind conjured for him on instinct. "When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me, speaking words of wisdom." He stopped, his voice cracking almost imperishably. "I don't even know who Mary is. But I wanted her to come. I wanted her help so badly. I need those words of wisdom in the darkness."

"Let it be." Harry whispered and brought the lights up a bit, making the shadows in the room disappear. "Let it be." Lucius eyes widened and he opened his mouth to say something, but Harry shook his head no and let two fingers drift over the man's lips stopping any comment. "Let it be." The boy whispered and slowly leaned forward, capturing Lucius' lips in a gentle, slow, and rather inexperienced kiss. For a moment the blond hesitated before answering back, gently guiding Harry.

"Is this what you want?" Harry whispered as he pulled back. "I don't want you to do this for the wrong reasons either."

Lucius reached a hand up to touch the scar peaking out from under Harry's hair. "Let it be, Harry." The older man smiled slowly. "Let it be."

_**(Author Note: See end of chapter for complete song lyrics if interested.)**_

_**/ WARNING SLASH SMUT BELOW /**_

Harry grinned back at Lucius and then his smile faltered. "Ah, so exactly what am I letting be? What are we going to do?"

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "I take it that I am to be your teacher in all regards rather than just illegal magic." Harry's deep blush caused Lucius to laugh. "Harry, do you have any idea what you've just gotten yourself into, after all you were the one trying to seduce me?"

"I have a little bit of a plan." Harry defensively muttered. Then the boy almost pulled back when Lucius reached a hand out to touch the side of his face. "I know the logistics, I've just never…I never really expected to go through with it. Or that it would work."

Lucius saw the half cringe but kept his hand moving till it made contact, cupping the boy's cheek softly. "You are completely innocent, aren't you?" He sounded surprised.

Harry leaned into the hand and his eyes fluttered shut at just that simple touch. His lips parted a bit, and he nodded his head. His eyes opened back up, an impossibly green flame lighting the room more than _Lumos_ ever could. He wanted to be less honest, but something inside told him to trust Lucius. After all, if this was heading where he thought it was, the man would figure it out anyway.

Lucius turned on the couch, bringing his legs up underneath him until he was kneeling beside Harry, his hand still on the boy's cheek. "You have never even kissed a man before, have you?" The wizard seemed intrigued and pleased by the idea.

"No." Harry croaked. "Only Cho Chang, and that was….wrong." The boy's eyes were close to watering and Lucius ran his thumb underneath one, causing a tear to trickle out. He brushed it away and Harry closed his eyes again, shutting off the green light causing Lucius to suddenly mourn its presence. Harry finally shuddered and pulled away from the hand in one quick motion. His knees moved up into their familiar stance in front of him, face buried in his own robes. Part in fear, and part to hide his growing arousal. "I'm sorry." Ghosted out from the too small frame.

Lucius gently forced Harry's head up. "You don't need to apologize to me for this, Harry. It is an honor that you would come to me." His firm grip on the boy's chin kept Harry's eyes in forced contact. "You know so little about our world, less than I had imagined." He let the boy go and Harry used all his will power to keep his head up. Lucius instead looked down, shifting to sit back onto the couch rather than his legs. "It is considered a gift for a wizard to give his virginity to another. More than that, how it happens can affect your magic for the rest of your life. I would have thought Dumbledore would have had you loose it already. If Voldemort thought you were still so innocent, he would have most likely ordered us to…" Lucius looked back up and stopped at the horrified look in the green eyes.

"Dumbledore could never have _ordered_ me to…" The boy shuddered harder this time and closed his eyes. "I…."

"It would have been for your own good. Better to give it up freely with someone you cared little for than to have it stolen by your enemy." Lucius gently took the boys hands in his. "There is power in everything in the wizarding world, Harry. Every tree, every rock, every touch. All that we do is imbued with it. Nothing is as simple for us as it is for a muggle. Generally, the more powerful the wizard or witch, the stronger the connection that is forged." Lucius gently squeezed Harry's hands. "Everything you do is magnified, enhanced, Harry. What a normal wizard would not even feel, can cause you to lose touch with reality. That is what happened when I kissed you in my chambers. I felt it happening to you. I am sorry you were so ill prepared. I had no idea it would be like that, or I would have been more careful." He seemed sincere enough, but there was an edge of triumph to his tone.

Harry's eyes flashed in anger, but he didn't pull his hands away. "Great. Just another way I'm different from everyone else." He shook his head and then let his hair fall in front of his face, blocking his eyes and scar from view. "Why is everything a curse?"

"A curse? This is a gift, Harry." Lucius smiled openly and let go of one hand to brush the hair off of Harry's face. "This is a wonderful gift. Your power lets you connect to another living thing like most wizards can only dream of. I doubt even Severus and Hermione can feel the magic flow like we did with that kiss. And Dumbledore linked them magically during the bonding." Lucius shook his head, causing his own hair to fall into his and Harry's eyes. "No, Harry. This doesn't make you different. This makes you _blessed_."

Harry blushed deeply despite himself. "But what will it do when we do more than kiss?"

Lucius chuckled. "I think we'll have to experiment to find out. The level of power you have is immense. Combined with my above average powers, we could be heading into something at an intensity the wizarding world hasn't seen since Merlin and his consort. But I can tell you it will most likely effect us beyond what we could anticipate." To anyone that knew Lucius, it would have been obvious how much he wanted the chance to find out, to experiment. But Harry had yet to learn to read the man.

"Do you want that?" Harry asked quietly, searching the other man's face for answers. "You said you didn't know if you could accept a different reason for my interest. Are you sure you want this?"

Lucius sighed and smirked indulgently. "I think that one kiss already affected us. Otherwise, I wouldn't be in your chambers acting so understanding. Your curiosity and lust are still welcome, but you have to understand that no matter how short our tryst you'll never be the same. I'm not saying I expect this to be more than a mutually satisfying fling, but you have to know that even if this ends when you start back to Hogwarts, you'll spend the rest of your life randomly looking back on our time together."

Harry gave a strangled laugh. "Do you have any idea how arrogant that sounds?"

Lucius looked confused. "But neither of us will be the same. Ask Draco. Every one of those torrid affairs of his has changed him a bit. Everyone a wizard sleeps with stays with him in part. You never forget them."

Harry chuckled even harder. "It's a Muggle thing, Lucius." He stopped laughing and gave in, running his fingers through the blond hair hanging tantalizingly close. "In the muggle world, what you said would be considered a horrible pick up line."

"Really?" Lucius smirked. "I always knew Muggles were flawed."

Harry copied Lucius' indulgent smirk. "Be careful, Lucius. I lived for over ten years as a Muggle."

"I always did have a flare for the exotic." Lucius purred before he lunged for Harry, again starting a brutal kiss, startlingly the boy and causing him to yip before the magic started to swirl again and he lost his grip on everything, the lights in the room swimming around him and the leather of the couch underneath him fading away.

"This, Harry, is what it is to be a wizard. This is what I can show you." Lucius breathed in his ear and Harry whimpered slightly, realizing fuzzily that Lucius had picked him up and was carrying him into the bedroom. Harry hadn't let himself even think about what actually seducing Lucius Malfoy would be like, but this wasn't even close to anything he could have dreamt up.

The blond smirked and started to undo the boy's robes. "I think you're going to be deliciously responsive, my little innocent. Perhaps I should ward the rooms. Can't have the werewolf barging in to interrupt, can we?" His wand was already making the movements for silencing charms and locking wards, while his free hand undid button after button on the Gryffindor's day robes. Harry silently watched with a strange detachment as Lucius slipped the robe off of him.

"I take it…" Harry gulped. "That you don't mind forever remembering me?"

Lucius chuckled a bit, and crawled up Harry to lie flat on top of him. "I'll considerate it an honor to be the one you'll use to compare all your other lovers to. As your instructor in this vital part of living, I'll make sure to give an almost impossible to live up to standard for all those who follow me."

Harry was going to comment on how that statement was even more arrogant then the last, but he stopped dead as a hand cupped his suddenly hard organ and the magic tingled between them harder. Harry swore he could almost see Lucius glowing. "I…"

Lucius moved away a bit, hand still pressed against Harry's throbbing cock. Lucius rubbed through the thin material of Harry's underwear and the Gryffindor whimpered. Lucius' eyes were dilated as he reluctantly moved off the bed long enough to take off his own robes. He was naked underneath, as a proper wizard should be, and Harry sucked in a breath. He'd seen the other boys in the dorm naked, but this was different. Lucius let him look and when Harry finally realized he was staring at the man's hard and reddening erection, he blushed hard enough he thought he'd black out. Lucius moved back onto the bed, not letting the young wizard find time to turn away.

"Look all you like, Harry." Lucius took his hand and brought it to his own organ, running the Gryffindors fingers along his shaft. "I'm here to teach, after all. And hands on_ is_ the best way to learn."

Harry felt his eyes widen as he watched his own hand stroke another man. His own erection was positively throbbing and it was with relief rather than embarrassment that he greeted Lucius' free hand on the waist band of his boxers.

"We must get you out of these _Muggle _things." Lucius let go of Harry's hand letting it fall away, so he could better grasp the material, pulling it down as Harry arched up to let them slide off. "That is much better. Useless fabric." Lucius threw the underwear over his shoulder, catching it on the corner of the bedroom mantle. Harry giggled and Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Impudent whelp."

Harry laughed harder and then choked as Lucius bent down and bit his right nipple lightly. Then he moaned as the magic again surged and he was sure Lucius was now glowing. "Last chance to back out, Harry." Lucius whispered against his skin.

"I'm not in Gryffindor for nothing." Harry panted and almost regretted his wording when Lucius bit his other nipple, hard.

"Good." The older man ran his hands down Harry's sides and the boy arched up. Lucius' hair was caressing him as the man began a slow process of licking his way down from the abused nipples to the heart of the matter, Harry's now leaking arousal.

Lucius gently lapped at the very tip, collecting the drop of moisture that was hanging there precariously. Harry closed his eyes, half due to the feeling, and half because the glowing was starting to hurt his eyes. He felt light headed and dizzy. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to, or if it was the magic again.

"Both." Lucius smirked as Harry sat bolt upright, knocking Lucius away from his task. "And yes, I did read your mind. Interesting side effect I haven't run into before." The blond chuckled and pushed Harry back flat on the bed. "Now, where were we?"

Harry hesitantly raised his hands to touch Lucius' chest. It wasn't heavily muscled, but it was hard and flat, and any reservations Harry had about his sexuality went out the window. He could never imagine touching a woman's breasts like this. Lucius smirked harder and Harry mentally slapped himself. The man was still reading his mind. This only caused the older wizard to chuckle out loud. Harry frowned and with a bit of effort, flipped them so he was on top. Lucius obligingly spread himself out, letting Harry explore.

The only hair on the elder Malfoy's body appeared to start as a fine trail at the navel that ended in blond curls around the man's penis. For a moment, Harry was a bit awe struck. He knew where that was supposed to go, and he wasn't exactly sure how that was supposed to work. The size difference was a bit daunting, like trying to put a square peg in a round hole, it logically didn't seem possible. There had to be a trick to it.

"I'm more than willing to demonstrate." Lucius chimed in and Harry ignored him. This mind reading business was making a difficult time more trying in his opinion.

"And here I was trying to break up the tension." Lucius lazily reached down and stroked himself. "If you want something done right."

Harry wasn't about to rise to the bait, and instead he carefully ran his hands over the chest that was beginning to fascinate him. The boys in the Quidditch locker rooms had more muscles, but they lacked the sheer size and power he felt under his hands. Lucius wasn't perfect, his stomach was starting to show a bit as his age caught up to him and there were dozens of scars, some mere lines, others rippled tissue. But Harry liked the feel of them under his fingers. They reminded him of Muggle books for the blind, and he felt almost like he was reading Lucius as he touched. His own nakedness forgotten, Harry spent a long hour doing nothing but taking his first long look at another person's flesh.

Lucius closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling. The magic that was so affecting Harry was only a distant hum to him, controllable and friendly. But it was so much more powerful than anything he'd felt before and it was heady. His sudden clairvoyance where the boy was concerned was interesting, and he made a vow to explore it more fully when the young man wasn't so skittish.

Harry eventually lost interest in just lightly touching Lucius and he stopped to stare down at the other man's organ. He wanted to do something, but he wasn't quite sure what. Lucius cracked one eye open to watch as Harry slowly reached his hand out for the first time on his own.

"Go on, Harry. It's all right."

"But I don't want to do something wrong." Harry whispered. "I don't want to make a mistake."

Lucius smiled in genuine affection. "You are so sure of yourself when you're out there fighting Voldemort. But when you're just doing something normal, you are overwhelmingly self-conscious." Harry's shoulders slumped as if Lucius had hit him. "Oh Harry," the man sighed, he could feel the boy's dejection. "I'm not insulting you." Lucius reached down and again wrapped his fingers around Harry's hand and his own cock. "We'll go slowly and I promise you I won't do anything you don't want me to and there is nothing you could do that would be that bad. And it's just us in here, and I'm not going to tell anyone what happens." He again stroked himself with Harry's hand. "Your fingers are rough. I like that."

"Quidditch." Harry chocked out and took over the movement himself, Lucius' hand drawing back.

"Good for something at last." Lucius smirked and sat up, pulling Harry close to him and kissing him gently. Harry was starting to get use to the glow and the feel of the magic, not getting so caught up in its flow. This time he managed to stay in the kiss without almost passing out. "That's it, Harry. Just go with the feeling." Lucius kissed his forehead before he slid the glasses off Harry's nose. "We should put these somewhere safe."

"But I can't see." Harry complained and Lucius smirked.

"I think you've had enough time to see me, Harry. Perhaps we should instead do some _feeling_?" Lucius again crawled on top of Harry, lining their aching erections up. He slowly began to move, rubbing them together. Harry moaned and jerked. The lack of sight somehow added to it.

"Oh god," The younger wizard clutched at Lucius' shoulders. "It almost…"

"Hurts." Lucius finished for him, his own breathing already labored. Harry's gentle explorations had about driven him mad. He'd surprised himself with his patience and he was beginning to understand how much he'd underestimated Harry's influence on him. The boy's power was leaking out, causing the entire room to hum with magic and possibilities.

It didn't take long for Harry to gasp and shudder, coming between them in quick hot spurts. Lucius felt the magic more than the actual act, and growled low before coming himself.

It took several moments for the two to come down off the magical and physical high they'd sent themselves on. When they did, Lucius reached for his wand and sent a cleaning spell over the entire bed. With another swish, he'd placed them securely under the covers.

Harry wasn't sure what to do. Lucius most likely didn't want to cuddle, but Harry felt the need to be near the man. To his surprise, Lucius spooned up behind him and wrapped his arms tightly around.

"Don't even think about wiggling away, Mr. Potter." Lucius nibbled a bit at the space right below Harry's ear. "I like my prey close should I decide I'm still hungry."

Harry giggled almost hysterically, and felt a bit like a girl for doing it.

Lucius licked the spot he'd been abusing. "There is nothing girly about you, Harry. Although, the giggle is a bit un-wizardly. Reminds me of the fool Dumbledore for some reason."

Harry would have hit him, but he couldn't quite find the energy to move. And besides, it was all Lucius' fault for making him giggle in the first place. He soon fell asleep, sure that when he woke up, Lucius would still be there.

/ / / /

_The Beatles – Let It Be_

_When I find myself in times of trouble, mother Mary comes to me,  
speaking words of wisdom, let it be.  
And in my hour of darkness she is standing right in front of me,  
speaking words of wisdom, let it be._

_Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be.  
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be._

_And when the broken hearted people living in the world agree,  
there will be an answer, let it be.  
For though they may be parted there is still a chance that they will see,  
there will be an answer. let it be._

_Let it be, let it be, ..._

_And when the night is cloudy, there is still a light, that shines on me,  
shine until tomorrow, let it be.  
I wake up to the sound of music, mother Mary comes to me,  
speaking words of wisdom, let it be._

_Let it be, let it be, ..._

/ / / /

The morning dawned bright, shiny, and too damn early. Harry stretched and felt an answering shift next to him. A slow smile spread across his face and Harry decided that the sun could live another day, even if it was blinding him. This was the second day in a row that he'd woken up next to Lucius, and this time he had something to remember and little chance of a verbal bashing.

A low snicker sounded in his right ear. "You thought I would yell yesterday?" Lucius purred.

Harry almost jumped. He hadn't realized the man had been awake. "You can still read my mind?" Harry blurted out, surprised that his sleep fogged brain had processed that fast. "This isn't permanent is it? I sort of figured that after we'd…finished…it would go away." He gulped and hoped he didn't sound as panicked as he really was. There were certain things it would be best if no one knew. He felt Lucius shrug next to him.

"Normally, I'd only be a bit more attune to your emotions during and after sex." Harry could hear the man smirk. "This, however, is more like a prolonged Legilimency spell than anything else I'm familiar with."

Harry sighed. "Great. Just bloody great. Now I've got you, Dumbledore, Snape, _and _Voldemort poking around in my head." Harry still hadn't turned to look at Lucius and he was nervous to do so. But he did manage a strong glare at the ceiling as he crossed his arms over his chest in irritation.

"Well, I plan to poke around in other places as well. At least they don't do that." Lucius' voice was still a dangerous purr, and Harry shivered both from the tone and the implications. "But that will have to wait." Again, Harry could hear the smirk. "We need to be somewhat presentable and less than obvious at breakfast. I suggest we shower. Separately."

In a sudden flash that felt like a blast of warm air in his mind, Harry heard what Lucius had not said. 'I dearly hope the werewolf doesn't attack me at first sight for this. The last thing I need is hospitalization without even getting to properly screw the boy.'

Harry chuckled and finally turned to look at Lucius. "Remus must have guessed by now that I fancy you. He just wants me to be careful. After dealing with Sirius for years, he's developed a rather 'hands-off' approach to situations he might disapprove of." Lucius looked shocked at the boy having read his mind. Harry smirked. "You know, it's not so bad when it goes both ways. Reciprocity and all that."

The blond sneered and then his look softened a tiny bit. "I believe that I now understand your aggravation at the situation."

Harry laughed softly and moved forward to gently kiss his lover. "Good, then let's make a little agreement. You don't go snooping, and neither will I."

"And what is in there you don't want me to know about?" Lucius raised a questioning eyebrow and Harry felt a gentle nudge at his mind.

Harry quickly slapped a mental wall up around his unruly mind just as it conjured up memories of his and Draco's excursion into the wand chamber. In an effort to cover, he raised his own eyebrow. "I think the question that should concern you more is what do you have in _your_ head that you would rather not have _me_ seeing." He sent his own gentle nudge at the older man. It met a solid wall of Occlumency and Harry kept his growl of frustration to himself.

Lucius smirked, picking up on the growl anyway. "So far you haven't been able to do more than pick up a _single_ stray thought. I don't think I have too much to worry about. Experience seems to be in my favor."

Harry smirked right back. "I haven't had years of Legilimency practice, but I do have raw talent and I'm a quick learner. Give me a week."

"Such arrogance."

"I've got a good teacher."

Lucius frowned slightly. "Be that as it may, Mr. Potter, at the moment I do have the upper hand." His stern look was only partially diminished by the rumpled hair and rather sated look he was sporting. "At the moment, you are the one broadcasting his thoughts. Now, what exactly were you trying to hide from me earlier? What were you and Draco doing crawling on the floor in Narcissa's wing…?" Lucius stopped dead, eyes widening. "He didn't. The spoiled idiot didn't." Harry cringed and Lucius turned a fierce glare on the boy. "You helped him find the wand chamber." Harry meekly nodded. "Fuck." Lucius swore before sitting up in bed and running a hand through his hair.

"There were good reasons to have him wait!" Lucius angrily slammed a fist down unto the bed causing it to shake.

"I'm sorry." Harry whispered. "I didn't like the idea, but Draco looked so happy when he asked. I've never really seen him like that. I couldn't turn him down. Puppy dog eyes and all that."

"With Black for a godfather you should be immune." Lucius mumbled. He cringed slightly when he felt Harry's emotions start to go haywire through the odd link they'd formed the night before. He sighed. "It's not your fault, Harry. Draco can be manipulative." He felt the boy relax slightly. "I only wanted him to wait till after he was through with this ridiculous Dark Arts training. If he picked a wand too soon it could influence the direction his magic will take rather then the decision being up to him. And being embroiled in this mess could have a negative effect."

Harry crawled up behind the older wizard, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I wouldn't worry so much about Draco, if I were you. I think he's far more grown-up than most people realize, and just as complex."

Lucius looked at Harry over his shoulder. "All Malfoy's are."

"All of us are." Harry smiled cautiously. "Now, let's get out of bed, get dressed, and make sure Draco and Remus don't come looking." Harry self-consciously wrapped the top sheet around himself as he got up and moved towards his wardrobe. "And then you can talk to Draco about all this." Harry grabbed a set of robes and went towards the bathroom. "And I can make sure you don't get eaten by an over protective werewolf." With that, Harry shut the bathroom door on a still pouting Lucius Malfoy.

Lucius sat there for a few minutes listening to Harry start the shower. Somewhat numb, he eventually got off the bed and gathered his things. With a wand flick, a connecting portal to his rooms opened up in the wall and Lucius walked through, still naked. He dropped his robes on the floor of his bedroom and headed for his own shower. It wasn't until he was under the warm spray that he realized he could no longer hear the hum of Harry's thoughts. Proximity or length of time seemed to be the key. He'd have to do some experimentation next time. Assuming there was a next time. Which seemed a given after the way they'd talked this morning.

Lucius leaned his head against the Italian tiles and let the water beat down on him. He'd just screwed Harry Potter. A boy his son's age. And he planned on doing it, and more, again. And he felt guilty for not feeling guilty. Damn ghosts of morality.

Lucius sighed and raised his head, the water pushing his hair back and running into his eyes. He was over 40. Young for a wizard, but Harry's thoughts about his age and body the night before had been correct. He was aging. Wizards might live to be 300-400 years old, but they still aged like a muggle until 70 or so. He'd be bent and gray by the time Harry was thirty.

Lucius ground his thoughts to a hault. He only needed to worry about that if he planned on keeping Harry around that long. Which was ludicrous. The boy was experimenting, nothing more. Lucius had done plenty of that in his own youth, just like Draco. And it was all crucial to his development as a wizard. Each lover had helped to shape and mold him, making him the man he was. Narcissa had perhaps been his saving grace. Her hidden humor and genuine affection for him had made her more dear than his ambition or his fortune. His devotion to her had safe guarded the last part of him he hadn't sold to the Dark Lord. And that brought the real source of his guilt crashing into him.

He'd failed to protect his flower. She had wilted under the harsh unforgiving night, and he had helped to block the life giving sun. In his youth, he'd dreamed of spending his life with the cool beauty. Now, he'd already begun to mourn her – nursing her body and wishing secretly that it would fade into shadows just as the part of her he'd loved had. His affairs had started when she'd been pregnant with Draco, at her behest – she'd not felt up to lovemaking. And they'd continued as she'd deteriorated. But they had always been more like light-hearted friendships than anything meaningful. While he'd slept with both women and men, they'd only shared brief moments of physical union, never anything beyond a dim awareness of mutual need. Nothing like what he'd had with Narcissa before the Dark Lord had ruined it. And nothing that felt like what he was starting to nurture between Harry and himself. And nothing like the negative energy transfers from Revels.

Lucius shivered. Rape, in the wizarding world, was just as damaging to the perpetrator as the victim. Any physical contact allowed for energy transfer, and sex was the best conduit. When that flow became forced, the magic, however little or much, was twisted, unnatural. That twisted magic would throw the wizard's own magic out of sink. When that happened, the wizard was likely to descend into Dark Magic further. And it was extremely hard to climb out.

That explained Bellatrix and the other wives as well as the maniacal nature of most of the Death Eaters. Voldemort's forced wife swapping had twisted the entire group's magic, driving victims and rapists equally batty. Which was the most likely reason for the Dark Lord ordering it in the first place – other than His voyeuristic tendencies. Insane followers were valuable weapons and far less likely to try and take over. Lucius and Severus had managed to somehow avoid the brunt of it. Narcissa had not been as lucky. And he'd lost her – he'd failed as a husband.

And now he was contemplating abandoning her, however metaphorically, for a child. This was not a meaningless affair he was starting with Potter. This was deeper; the boy's power demanded nothing less. He turned the water off and stepped out of the shower, drying his hair with a quick spell. He couldn't throw his wife aside, not for anyone.

But he also couldn't just turn away from Harry Potter. The boy's magic was staggering. And his loneliness was devastating. Lucius understood the depths of that emotion all too well. He'd spent a brief time with Narcissa when it did not crush him. And Severus' company helped to lighten the burden some. But since shortly after Draco's birth, he'd had a growing sense of loneliness. Friends could not be there for you day and night. They had separate lives to live. They had their own responsibilities. In short, Lucius missed his marriage. He missed having a family, Draco not withstanding. A family of two was simply inadequate to most tasks. And being the parental figure, he had never been able to turn to Draco for help or a shoulder. He'd never had a chance to share his burden – if even for a moment.

Harry had never truly known even the limited safety of a small family. You could see his desire for it in his eyes. You could see the envy when he looked at Hermione with her grandparents or even Severus. It was rolling off him in waves when he looked at the Weasleys. And he was even obviously jealous of the poor relationship Lucius had with his son.

Yet through all this, Lucius loathed the idea of taking on Harry Potter out of pity. The boy would be extremely high maintenance, and pity simply wasn't worth the effort. But Lucius knew it wasn't really pity. It was sympathy, empathy, and an odd sort of understanding. And Lucius was willing to admit he was also rather demanding in a relationship. Just ask Severus; their friendship cost the man considerable time and effort in an attempt to keep Lucius happy. Whatever he was about to enter into with Potter would likely be even more challenging to the boy's time schedule.

Whatever magic had transferred between him and Harry the night before was already effecting him. Lucius could feel his emotional attachment to the boy already, something that had never happened with any of his other lovers, with perhaps the exception of Narcissa. He could not go back now.

Nor could he go forward. He was trapped in the moment, torn between his past and his future, his wife and his lover. And he had no idea what to do.

He had just pulled a robe on when a soft knock on his door ground his ruminations to a halt. Lucius eyed the barrier with trepidation before slowly unwarding and opening it. Draco, prim and pressed, was standing on the other side. The boy's eyes were slightly weary, hurt, and more than a bit angry. Lucius stood back and let his son into his sitting room. He honestly couldn't remember if the child had ever even been in the room before.

"Draco, what is it?" Lucius asked as kindly as he could manage. Years of habit made the words sound clipped and the older wizard hid his cringe and tried again. "Are you alright?" Draco shook his head no and his large gray eyes closed off in anguish. Lucius took a moment to recall exactly what could have caused that look. The Revel. Draco had killed for the first time. Under his order. Without a thought, Lucius pulled Draco into his arms kissing his son's head as if he was still a little boy. "I am so sorry, my son."

Draco stiffened and did not give into tears as Lucius had expected. Instead, his angry voice, muffled by his father's robes, cut Lucius to the quick.

"Sorry! You caused this. All of this!" Draco pulled back angrily and glared at his father. "You took the damn Mark. Because of you I'm a murderer! And what do you do when we get home? You run off and shag Potter. Damn you to hell."

With that, Draco turned and stalked out of the room, making sure the door slammed shut behind him. Lucius stood shocked for a moment before sinking to the floor. His son was right, it was all his fault. He'd brought his whole family to ruin. How could he even contemplate finding happiness after all that?

Lucius was so busy with his thoughts, he failed to notice when Lupin sneaked through the un-warded door and sat down on the floor across from him. Remus had seen Draco's hasty exit and decided to investigate. The professor had to clear his throat twice before Lucius looked up.

"Go away, werewolf." His voice was dull. "I've had enough for one morning."

Remus looked him over carefully and shook his head no. "No, I don't think you've had enough." He sighed. "Draco's not himself. Give him time and he'll realize what you did to protect him."

"What do you know of it, Lupin?" Lucius snarled, but remained sitting on the floor.

Remus smiled kindly. "While Harry was chasing after you, and yes I know all about that. I do have eyes and I don't trust those two boys any further than Neville could spell-toss them. But while Harry was busy cheering you up, Draco was in my room sobbing. I got the full account, moment by moment. You tried your best, Lucius. You kept him out of the worst of the raid."

Lucius couldn't take it anymore, and in one smooth move he was standing, looming over Remus with murder in his eye. "I killed two people right in front of him! I ordered him to kill that woman. I made him do it. All so we'd look better to the Dark Lord. I didn't keep him out of anything." Lucius was positively shaking. "And then I go and abandon him for Potter." The blond deflated suddenly and turned his back on the older man. "Go ahead, Lupin. Put me out of my misery for touching the boy."

"If I did that it would have to be a murder suicide." Remus got up off the ground as well and leaned against the door frame. "I know you and Harry didn't do anything much last night, or the night before. And neither did Draco and I, although he did spend both nights in my bed. Curled up in a ball, but that's not the point."

Lucius wasn't sure if he was relieved Draco had managed to find some comfort, or horrified to hear his son was in bed with the werewolf. He'd known it was coming, but he'd thought to avoid the description. Remus didn't give him anymore time to contemplate, however.

"Look, Lucius, you don't have to worry about me interfering with you and Harry. Merlin knows you both could use a little affection in your lives. It's Sirius I'd watch out for if I were you. And as far as Draco goes, he's been encouraging Harry for weeks. He's just a bit jumbled right now. First he's learning the Dark Arts, now he's learning Light Magic. Then he gets summoned, kills someone for the first time, and then watches his new found best friend go off to sleep with his father, who he's just starting to get to know. He's not angry at you; he's just pissed off at the world in general."

Lucius stayed silent for a long minute before he gave a defeated sigh. "I feel like I'm betraying my family for my own happiness." He glared hard at the werewolf. "And don't comment on it. You're just hearing this because I don't have the energy to call a house-elf to take my frustrations out on."

Remus nodded and shrugged. "Just call me the canine psychiatrist. To get insight into humanity, it helps to be outside it." He smiled benignly and backed towards the door as Lucius pulled his wand on him. "Don't be so ethical, Lucius. You're a little old to be growing a conscience." With that, Remus bolted into the hallway and ducked from a half-hearted curse Lucius threw at him.

"Bloody Gryffindors." Lucius slammed his door and went to sit down at the desk he kept in his setting room. He started as he felt two hands come down on his shoulders. Thinking Remus was back, he swirled around ready to hex the intruder to hell and back. He found himself staring into his wife's nearly lucid eyes, and he froze. She most have come through the door from her old quarters, he'd never changed to wards to block her.

"Lucius." Her voice was hoarse and the house-elves obviously hadn't been able to talk her into clean robes for at least a day. "Lucius, I want you to be happy." Tears were running down her cheeks and Lucius felt answering ones start down his.

"Narcissa?"

She blinked at him and ran a pale hand over the side of his face. "How I loved you, my husband." She smiled sadly and then lowered her head to hide her face. "But I'm not what I was and I'll never be me again. That girl is as dead as both our parents. I don't even want to go back." She looked back up, her eyes dancing as if seeing a thousand things at once. "I want you to do something for me, love."

"Anything." Lucius breathed out with perfect conviction.

She nodded at his pledge and then stepped back from him. "Take care of those boys. Both of them. Draco may have been branded by that monster, but you keep him from becoming one of _them._" She shivered and her voice cracked. "And you help that Potter boy stop all this. Do you hear me? I don't care what it takes. You give him whatever he needs. If it means you love him like you loved me, do it." She was crying even harder. "Just make this all stop with us, Lucius. Make it end here." Lucius stood up in a flash and went to hold her, but she backed away from him as if frightened. In a whisper, she hissed out a plea for 'them' not to hurt her, and ran. Lucius knew she was remembering one of the rapes. It happened almost every time he got close to her anymore. He had a suspicion she was sensing the Mark. Feeling even more like a monster, he went to his liquor cabinet and crabbed a bottle of Firewhiskey before pulling up wards around his entire room. He was done with interruptions.

Remus made sure his door was latched when he made it back to his rooms. Even though the curse Lucius had thrown was only half-hearted, he didn't want to take chances. Draco's quiet voice greeted him as he turned around.

"Did you talk to him?" The blond was wrapped up in a blanket off the bed and his eyes were red and watery, just as Remus had left him earlier this morning, before their mutual confrontations with Lucius.

Remus nodded and moved to hug the boy. "He's in a sad shape, Draco."

"I shouldn't have yelled at him. I didn't mean it. It's just…" Draco trailed off as he pulled Remus closer. "I'm so scared."

"I know." Remus inhaled the strong sent of the younger man and relaxed. It felt right. He couldn't deny it anymore. It felt_ right_ to hold Draco like this, even if the wizard was trembling for all the wrong reasons. "I know."

"It's just, I wasn't expecting Him to summon me. All this," Draco pulled back and waved his arms around to encompass the entire Potter-Dark-scheme, "was supposed to mean I didn't have to go! And then father ordered me to kill that woman. I mean, he _had _to, I _know_ that. I had to play an active part or the others would have told the Dark Lord and I'd be dead, but…"

"But it hurts." Remus murmured. "It doesn't matter that you had no choice. It still eats you up inside."

"I don't want to become my father." Draco whispered. "I don't want to be a murderer, and now I am."

Remus didn't say anything, only went back to holding him.

"I want this to end." Draco whispered even softer into his professor's shoulder. "I just want this to be over."

"We all do, Draco. More than anything." Remus sighed and half led, half dragged the boy to the sofa. "I've been fighting Voldemort my entire life. I'd give anything to know, to really know, it was over. But it's not, and we have to keep going. Maybe, if we fight hard enough, there will come a day when our children wouldn't have to fight."

Draco nodded mutely and wrapped the blanket around himself tighter. Remus kept a hold of the boy and offered his physical presence as a reassurance.

"Father has always been distant, but I thought he'd be there for me after…."

Remus sighed. "He's barely there for himself, Draco."

The Slytherin huffed. "But he's my father. He's _supposed_ to be stronger than me. He's _supposed_ to be perfect, damn it!"

Remus leaned closer and rested his head on top of Draco's. "That is the most painful lesson a child must learn. No one's perfect. Your father is no exception. You knew that, this just brought it home, so to speak."

"But I _want_ him to be perfect. I want him to make it all go _away_." The slight whine to the blonde's voice made Remus smile.

"I said the same thing about my parents after I was bitten. Somethings just can't be fixed."

Draco pulled back a bit and looked into Remus' eyes. "That's the problem. So what do you do if you can't fix it?"

Remus stopped debating with himself and leaned in to kiss the younger wizard for the first time without the moon calling him or Draco initiating. It was soft, chaste almost, and he only let it last a moment. "You go on, Draco. You just go on."

"Let it be?" The boy whispered.

Remus nodded. "Let it be."

Remus couldn't see the small smirk on Draco's face, but he could hear it in his voice as he spoke up. "Does this mean we're going to shag later?"

"You are insufferable."

"Just like you like it, wolf man."

Remus and Draco did not 'shag'. But they did stay wrapped around each other on the sofa in Remus' sitting room for a long time. And Remus decided, or rather fully realized that he'd decided, that he was going to stop fighting the inevitable. But he wasn't going to tell Draco that just yet. After getting pounced on one time too many by the blond, it was time for some serious pay-back.

With that thought in mind, Remus cautiously asked if they shouldn't find Harry and make sure the boy was alright.

Draco, feeling guilty about his anger over the Gryffindor's affair with his father – even if Harry had yet to learn about said anger, agreed without hesitation.

The two made their way across the hall to Harry's room and knocked on the door. The Gryffindor opened it with only a minute's delay. He looked tired, but happy, and Remus smiled at him.

"You aren't mad, are you? Either of you?" Harry asked softly, not bothering to clarify. It was a safe bet they both knew anyway.

Remus tried to look stern, but failed miserably. "Of course I'm upset, but not about you and Lucius. Have fun; don't break the furniture and all that. I'd say don't get pregnant, but it's unlikely your magic's strong enough for that yet." Harry gulped and suddenly realized he'd have to do some reading. He could get pregnant? Why didn't they teach that sort of useful information in Hogwarts? Then Remus' voice brought him back "You, Mr. Potter, have some explaining to do on another account."

Harry opened his eyes wide. "Me?"

"Yes you." Remus pushed Draco through the door and closed it behind them. He crossed his arms over his chest and mock glared. "I know you two are up to something. And not the piano lessons. You did a miserable job of hiding those."

Draco and Harry looked at each other in utter innocence. "Us?" They asked in perfect unison and Remus raised an eyebrow.

"We've been doing our homework." Harry added and pointed to their school books spread out on the sofa. "See?"

Remus didn't even bother to look. "Harry James Potter."

Harry shuffled his feet guiltily and looked at Draco.

The Slytherin rolled his eyes. "You are such a push over, Potter. I can't believe you've lived this long." The blond turned to look at Remus and lost his nerve as he watched the werewolf's glare go up a notch. "He's teaching me to become an Animagus." Draco blurted out in a single breath.

"Oh yeah,_ I'm_ the push over." Harry mumbled. "I thought I made you swear to secrecy."

Draco shrugged. "You should have made me sign a parchment like Hermione did to the DA." He smirked. "Oaths without back-up are meaningless."

"Bloody Slytherins" Harry growled out, only half kidding.

Remus was starring at them. "But for Harry to teach you, he'd have to be…..Sirius Black is going to have hell to pay."

Harry smirked. "Actually, he sort of_ failed_ to teach me. Dumbledore was the one who got me through it all. But the first time I transformed was when Sirius was here." Remus perused his lips and tapped his foot impatiently. "Ah, so do you want to see?" Harry asked sheepishly. He was met with twin nods.

Concentrating, Harry managed to transform with a pop. He was quite proud of himself. His second time and he managed it without hesitation. He let the two wizards admire his form before changing back with another pop.

Remus smiled at him. "You've got a nice form. It is significantly more practical than your father's or Sirius'."

"I know, that's what I told Sirius when he acted disappointed." Harry looked sad for a moment before brightening up. "Anyway, I'm not my father and I don't want to be. I have my own form and I'm happy about it."

Remus' look seemed to say, 'good for you'. He hugged the boy and then cheekily performed the name spell to find out what Harry was. He broke out laughing when he saw and Draco demanded an explanation. After they had both stopped laughing about Harry's propensity for making perfume, and after Harry had mildly hexed them both, they settled down into the chairs.

"So, how far along are you, Draco?" Remus asked, curious. He was secretly touched that Draco wanted to be an Animagus. The reason being quite clear.

The blond blushed for that very reason and pulled Harry's notebook out of his robe pocket. "I've finished reading it. I think I'm ready for the actual practice."

Harry nodded and took the notebook back. "I know it sounds easy, Draco, but it will take _months_ before you manage the transformation. If you push too hard before your magic is use to it, you could end up in a magical coma."

Remus nodded. "And we don't want to have to explain to St. Mungos how you managed that as an underage wizard during summer vacation."

"Alright, alright, if I feel strained I'll stop." Draco waved off their concern. "Now walk me through this."

Harry and Remus sighed together before Harry motioned for Draco to sit on the floor. "Now, I want you to relax. Let yourself feel your magic. It's like a warm tingle in your middle. Let it spread through your body, enveloping you." Harry tried to keep his voice even and calm. Remus was impressed with the boy's natural talent for instruction. His description wasn't out of any book and seemed to make more sense than the meditation instructions Sirius and James had found back in their own school days. They had been filled with terrible flower-opening analogies and 'quiet rivers of soulful calm in wild sea of chaos.'

Harry tried to put his own experiences into his instructions, hoping they would help more than the written mantras he'd found. "As the magic grows, find that little bit of you that is still wild. That tiny part that hears the forest, the part that soars with the wind and melts into the earth each spring. Gently guide the magic to it, feed that part of you that is hidden and feral. Give it what it needs."

Draco's eyes were shut tight and his breathing had started to find a pattern. Harry repeated his instructions for several minutes until Draco was breathing in time to the words. He was just about to bring the boy out of it, when there was a loud bang.

Remus and Harry watched in awe as a small fox took the place of Draco. The creature blinked up at them in confusion.

"Ah, Draco?" Harry asked. The small thing made a small chittery sound and Remus and Harry moved closer. "wow."

Remus nodded his agreement. "How long did it take you?"

"Over a year." Harry's eyes were wide. "I can't believe he did it on the first try!"

The fox seemed to grow larger under their praise. With another loud pop, Draco transformed back. Not even a stitch of clothing was out of place.

"Merlin. It took Sirius and James over six months to manage a transformation clothed, and two years to get anywhere at all." Remus sounded awed. "This is…."

"Well, I am a Malfoy." Draco smirked.

Harry snorted. "I can't believe it."

Draco's grin got wider before he went deathly pale and fainted.

Remus and Harry looked at him and sighed. "I hope it's only exhaustion." Harry mumbled.

Remus pulled his wand and scanned the Slytherin. He chuckled. "Just like in your Killing Curse lesson. Draco's got raw power, all right. But he doesn't seem to be able to channel it." Smirking, the two Gryffindors hauled the blond up onto the couch and let him sleep.

"I'm just glad he wasn't a ferret. I'd have never heard the end of it." Remus muttered. Harry just smiled. After all, it wouldn't take much to transfigure a fox. Both wizards left Draco asleep on the bed and headed down for breakfast. Harry hoped Lucius was there and all right. Remus was just as concerned, if for slightly less personal reasons.

Harry and Remus had a lovely lunch – alone. Lucius never came down. Harry tried to hide his nervousness at this, and Remus didn't comment on it. It was the boy's first 'morning after' and he could remember how hard that had been. Instead, he started telling tales of James and Sirius when they were learning to be Animagi and all the trouble that had caused. Harry asked all the right questions and laughed at the appropriate moments. In all, it was a wonderful lunch.

Yet there was an underlying tension in the room. It felt like there was always tension anymore. So it was with relief that they both finished and Remus excused himself to the library. He needed to do some research for Hermione on an arithmancy problem she'd asked him to look into. The Malfoy library was just as large as Hogwarts and it had a _broader_ subject base, to put it kindly. Harry left Remus downstairs and made for his room, he had homework to finish after all.

/ / / /

Lucius spent most of the morning getting as pissed as wizardly possible. He was feeling guilty, and guilt normally made him drink, as did just about everything else lately it seemed like. If he'd had a tad less will power he'd have crawled into a bottle permanently. He rarely let himself indulge to this degree, unless Severus was involved, but this time his lost the battle. Some part of him hoped he'd lost it permanently. Things would be easier if he perpetually saw them through a fog of scotch.

He finally stopped imbibing when the clock confirmed in long deep peals that lunch had to be just about over. As pleasant as he found some aspects of drinking himself to death, he didn't have the luxury just yet. Tall dark and evil needed to die first and there were just a few things left to find pleasure in before the end. He cast a quick sobriety charm on himself and straightened his appearance. Wallowing in self-pity was never a profitable pass time, and he'd spent to long on it as it was. So he was about to start a torrid affair with the Boy-who-lived? It would be the least of his crimes. And as for Narcissa, she'd told him to do it – and meant it. Draco would get used to it in time. He was a resilient boy.

With those thoughts in mind, Lucius left his own chamber through another quickly formed magical passageway and came out in Harry's sitting room. Lucius thought it would be a bit rude and rather presumptuous to appear in the Gryffindor's bedroom so early in the relationship. Besides, Harry still didn't understand all the intricacies of owning an old pureblood mansion. He most likely hadn't been aware that the master of the house could go from any point in the house to any other point with a simple wand wave. After all, Lucius had never even bothered to tell Draco. The boy had to have some surprises when he inherited the place, after all.

The Gryffindor's rooms were silent and Lucius assumed the boy was still finishing up lunch, despite the time. To amuse himself until Harry returned, he decided to take the opportunity to look around the guest rooms and see what the boy had done with the place. He'd had enough time to leave a personal touch, or so Lucius assumed. But all he found was a large pile of textbooks on a side table and a bundle of…Draco on the couch. His son was laid out rather haphazardly, with his blond hair fanned out around his head. There was even a small line of drool trailing down from the left corner of his mouth. Not the sort of decoration Lucius had been expecting. He snorted and tried not to smile. Why he was finding such a disgusting sight endearing was beyond him.

Sensing eyes on him, Draco mumbled something and tried to roll over, and instead landed on the floor. Lucius laughed out loud at the sight, and Draco jumped up to his feet, glaring.

"Father?" His eyes widened in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

Lucius raised an elegant eyebrow and sat down imperiously in one of the chairs. "I could ask you the same thing, Draconis."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Well, I wasn't shagging Potter, so don't worry about it." He reached up and wiped the drool off his face then looked down at his hand disgustedly. He angrily wiped it on the edge of his robe before plopping back down onto the couch. "I passed out again, I think."

Lucius sat forward, concerned. "Again? Have you been passing out lately?"

Draco sighed. "Just twice. Once when you were teaching us the Killing Curse and then today."

'Whatever were you doing to pass out from magic use before lunch?" Lucius' voice rose slightly toward the end of the sentence.

Draco's face colored slightly and he lowered his head. "I rushed my first Animagus transformation."

"You rushed…." Lucius paled and then sat back in the chair. "You're an Animagus?" The boy nodded. Lucius looked appraisingly at his son. The boy was too young for that kind of advanced magic. Then again, he was too young for the Killing Curse. There was hidden talent in the boy, that much was for certain.

Draco smiled back at him, a mix of pride and embarrassment on his face. "I'm a fox."

"I'd assumed a ferret." Lucius ducked as one of the throw pillows was hurled at his head. He chuckled. "When you've rested a bit, you'll have to show me. I never bothered learning. I am actually slightly jealous."

Draco puffed up at that. "Thank you." He had finally done something Lucius hadn't. Draco's smile was a mile wide.

Lucius gazed fondly back at him. "So, are we alright? Are you still upset about…..Harry?" Lucius was loath to ask, but he really needed to know.

Draco hesitated a moment and his smile faded. "I…we will be. I'm still getting use to you being so…human. And I'm not entirely sure about being friends with Potter, let alone having him involved with you. That would make him almost family."

Lucius nodded. "Potters are related to Malfoys somewhere, pureblood lines and all." He pointed out with a smirk.

Draco sneered. "That is not the point." He conveniently ignored the fact that he'd told Harry the same thing in the wand chamber. That thought made Draco's stomach twist with guilt.

Lucius smirked. "I know it's not the point." Draco's eyes lowered to the floor and Lucius dropped the smirk quickly. "What is it, Draco?"

Draco drew in a shaky breath. "Father, there is something else you need to know." He slowly stood up and pulled a box out from his robe pocket. Opening it, he pulled out a wand and held it out. "I found the wand chamber."

Lucius eyed the wand carefully and took it from Draco with reverent hands. "Your great-great-great-great-great grandmother Euphia's wand." His voice was soft and held a hint of wonder. He looked up at his son with a new appreciation, hidden talent indeed. "I already knew you had, Draco. I assumed I'd have to confront you. I'd also assumed your haste would have led you to…"

"A Dark wand?"

Lucius nodded. "Yes." He handed the wand back to Draco. "But I see I have underestimated you. Something I'm starting to think I do far too often. You are a powerful wizard, Draco. I'd hate to meet you on the battlefield. You are a credit to the House of Malfoy – this wand proves it. No matter what happened the other night, no matter what happens in the future, you are not evil. You have what it takes to survive this. I know that now. Euphia had the strength to withstand Morgana, and you have it to survive Voldemort."

Draco's eyes were watery and his grin returned full force. "I…thank you. I never thought I'd hear you say something like that."

"Thank _you_, Draco. You've managed to become a good man without my help, or rather I should say in spite of it." Lucius stood up and awkwardly pulled his son into a hug. "Remind me not to doubt you anymore. I think you could teach me more than I can you."

"I doubt that." Draco mumbled as he pulled away. "Are you saying all this because Remus put you up to it?"

"The werewolf has nothing to do with this." The notion was abominable. Lucius noted the skepticism in his son's eyes and he sighed. "Your mother made an impression. She asked me to look after you and Harry. She said that was the most important thing I could do. And I think she's correct."

"Mother talked to you?" Draco sounded hopeful and Lucius gently brushed his hair back off his face before he answered.

"Yes. She visited this morning. But I think she's back to her usual state now." Draco's face fell and Lucius again cursed the Dark Lord. Draco should have been able to know his mother, the beautiful woman that she was. "Have I ever told you about when I first met her?"

Draco shook his head no, and Lucius lead him back to the couch and sat him down. "Well, I was two years ahead of her in Hogwarts. I was sitting at the Slytherin table when the first years came in to get sorted. I saw Severus first, he was scowling as usual. Then right behind was an angel.…."

/ / / /

Harry took his time going back to his room. He'd already finished all the homework for the classes he liked, now all he had left was the dredge work he preferred to leave off till the last minute. But Hermione would skin him alive if he tried to skive off her notes the night before classes, again. And this time without the Dursleys for an excuse he didn't stand a chance. Resigned, he pushed his door open and stopped dead.

"You could never image the look on that woman's face. Her daughter engaged to a Malfoy. A Malfoy that had just set her best parlor curtains on fire. I'm telling you, that was the hardest I've laughed in my entire life!"

Lucius and Draco's unguarded laughter rang through the room. Harry blinked at the two blonds sitting in his front room. "What?"

The two looked up at him and Draco smiled. "Took you and Remus long enough to finish lunch. Did you bring me back anything?"

Harry shook his head no. "Okay, where are Lucius and Draco and what have you done with the bodies?"

Lucius smirked and stood up. "They're gagged and in the closet."

Harry contemplated for a moment. "There isn't enough room. And since when has a Malfoy bothered with being in the closet?" The blondes chuckled and Harry slowly grinned. "I'm glad to see you two have patched things up. Now, why are you both in _my _room?"

"In case you forgot, I passed out here and you left me on the couch." Draco grumbled then pointed at his father. "He was looking for a shag."

Lucius sneered down at his heir. "That was entirely uncalled for. True, but uncalled for." His son was making him remember what it was like to be that age, and his playful side was slowly reemerging.

Draco smirked harder and then grabbed up his textbooks. "Good luck to you two. I have to finish the last of that potions assignment. I'm headed to the library." He turned to his father, a hopeful expression in his eyes. "Thank you for telling me about her."

"It was my pleasure. I'd be more than happy to do it again, if you wish. I can even make you a Pensieve." Lucius offered with a small smile.

"I'd like that very much.' Draco returned the grin and left, letting the door click shut behind him.

"That, had to be one of the weirdest moments of my life." Harry muttered and looked sideways at Lucius. "You have issues."

"Of that, I am well aware, Mr. Potter." Lucius eyed the boy and then smirked. Never to put off the inevitable, he jumped to the point. "So we have the werewolf's blessing, my son's permission, and oddly enough, my wife's order to continue. Where do we go from here?"

Harry nervously shuffled and without thinking about it, blurted out, "the bedroom." He pushed seven shades of crimson as Lucius' deep laugh rippled over him.

"Always a surprise, Harry. Yes, that is a good idea, but not right now." He walked calmly over to the pile of textbooks and picked up the History of Magic book. "Now, if you can curb your teenage lust, I understand you have an essay due on the impact of the 1876 legislation against breeding sentient magical creatures. I believe my experiences in the Ministry might aid your endeavor." He opened the textbook and pulled out the summer syllabus, handing it to Harry. "Where would you like to begin?"

/ / / /

Remus was happily immersed in the back corner of the library when he caught the light scent and footfalls of his young admirer. Without thinking, he quickly ducked into a shadowy space between two shelves and held his breath. The full moon was past, and he still wanted the boy – and was still in a mind to allow himself a small indulgence.

Draco entered the room with a tiny smile playing on his face and headed straight for the set of shelves on the opposite side of the room. Remus slowly eased out of his hiding place and moved closer, still being careful not to be seen. He had decided to indulge the wolf, after all, and the wolf wanted a good stalking first. Who was he to argue?

Draco scanned the shelves for a minute then frowned. He muttered a quite curse. "Dippy!" He yelled out and tapped his foot impatiently. A rather sullen looking house-elf materialized in the center of the room and bowed to the younger Malfoy. "I need a book, like _Comfrey on Potions_?" I know I saw one last summer, I think it was red."

The elf nodded once and bowed. "Yes, Master Draco. Just one moment." The small creature moved around the boy and quickly headed straight for Remus. The werewolf slunk back around another shelf and crouched.

"I think it was red." The elf muttered and rolled his large bulbous eyes. "The complete incompetence! I see the boy once or twice a year and…he thinks it was red!"

Remus barely stopped his chuckle in time. Leave it to a librarian elf to be the only servant in the Malfoy house to be so impertinent. Of course, it was behind Draco's back, but even that small level of disobedience was remarkable in an elf. He'd have to tell Hermione. Maybe Dobby wasn't the only Malfoy elf with an independent streak. Conceivably it could be genetic.

The still muttering creature stopped at a low shelf and reached up to pull down a large blue volume with the title: _The Wonders of Comfrey: the Potion Master's Compendium_. He returned to the impatient heir and calmly handed him the book. "I believe this is what you are looking for, Master." The elf's lips curled in a clear gloat as Draco nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes! I could have sworn it was red." Draco clutched the book to his chest and actually gave the tiny librarian a smile. "Thank you, Dippy. I never would have found it without you."

"Indeed, Master." The elf bowed again and blinked out of sight. Draco turned on his heel and swept out of the room without glancing back. Remus felt a feral grin take over and he began the painstaking practice of slinking after the boy.

Draco went straight for his rooms, and Remus slipped in right behind. The blond didn't hear the door ease shut or the locking and silencing charms Remus slapped into place. He was too busy tossing parchments around on the desk to pay attention.

Remus snuck up behind the boy and with one quick move, pinned him in a tight embrace, arms wrapped around Draco's and nose barred in the crook of the smaller wizard's neck. Draco's body went tense and his breathing halted for a split second.

"Your family needs to work on their wards, Draco. First I sneaked up on your father and now you, both on the same day." He gave a low deep chuckle and Draco shivered in his arms, relaxing almost instantly. "Or perhaps I should take it upon myself to keep you safe. Protect you. Indulge you."

Draco's eyes fluttered shut and his mouth parted slightly at the feel of warm breath on his neck. "Oh yes, indulge me, Remus." He tried to reach up, but the werewolf's arms were still pinning his to his sides. He gave a slight whimper as Remus gently nibbled at his neck.

"Perhaps I want to indulge myself first. After all, you tortured me for long enough." He ran his tongue up behind the Slytherin's neck and tasted the hint of soap and sweat that was hiding there.

"I could live with that." Draco squeaked out before managing to squirm around to face his seducer. "But what made you decide….?"

Remus' eyes were burning a bright amber and his teeth flashed a dangerous white as he grinned. "It was just high time I gave the wolf a doggie treat. It felt like fox hunting, and that being a noble British sport, I acquiesced. Since it is no longer the full moon, you have no objections, I assume."

Draco smirked. "If I'd known all it would take was an impossible Animagus transformation and crying myself to sleep in your bed for two nights in a row, I would have done it a year ago."

"Shut up, Draco. I have better uses for your mouth right now." Remus' voice wasn't harsh, but he punctuated his words with a harder squeeze to his captive. "I've heard you talk before. I think it's time to see if you can live up to the image you've built of yourself."

Draco's grey eyes darkened and Remus could feel the boy hardening from where he was pressed against the werewolf's leg. "You do have an aggressive side, don't you?"

Remus shifted to rub his own erection against the boy's. "It would appear that we both enjoy it as well."

Draco smirked and tried to smash his smaller body into Remus even further. "Now why don't _you_ shut up?" He stood on his toes and crushed his lips into the werewolf's for a long hard moment before lowering himself back down.

"Point taken." Remus growled and shoved Draco backwards. "Bedroom."

Draco followed the command instantly. He managed to loose most of his clothes along the way as well.

Remus drank in the sight of him with only a small fluttering of guilt. Vaguely, he realized he should be feeling more, but he couldn't bring himself to care. The wolf was demanding as loudly as if the transformation was going to take place in hours instead of weeks. And Remus didn't have the energy to fight anymore, even if he'd wanted to.

They crashed into the large bed, and Draco fell backward, pulling Remus down on top of him. Somehow, Remus managed to shrug out of his own robes without tearing them too badly. He growled low in his throat as Draco squirmed away from him.

"I'm only making room for you." Draco muttered and reached out to yank at his professor's shaggy hair. "Now stop acting like a rabid dog and get to work!"

Normally, Remus would have reacted to the comment with something other than a quick dive for the boy's cock, but times being what they were….

Draco made a strangled sound of shock before he let out a moan. "Remussss…." Not bothering to talk, the werewolf repeated his earlier growl, this time around his captured price. Without ceremony or warning, the Slytherin came instantly. Remus, looking smug, licked all the evidence away before crawling up the limp body under him to stare down at still reeling Malfoy heir.

"Oh my god." Draco breathed out. "What…." His comment was cut off as a tongue was shoved down his throat. He could taste himself in Remus' mouth, and Draco shivered again.

Remus ended the kiss rather suddenly, but did not back away in the slightest. "You, my little fox, have yet to be properly claimed. Any preferences?"

Draco blinked. "Preferences?" His voice was a tad high, and sounded a bit squeaky.

The feral grin Remus gave him made Draco's organ give a slight tired twitch – defying all logic. Noticing, Remus let his hand trail down to stroke the length languidly. "Oh, I assume you'll be bottoming, at least for now. But, would you prefer being taken hard, harder, or brutal?" The amber eyes above him twinkled with an almost evil intensity and Draco shivered again in anticipation, so hard it almost shook the bed.

"I…." He closed his eyes and arched towards the hand stroking him. "I'd prefer to be able to walk in the morning."

"Pity." Remus muttered and stopped his ministrations. Shifting to reach over the side of the bed, he rummaged in his discarded robes. He managed to find his wand relatively quickly. Draco eyed the length of wood dubiously until his lover swished it and a small jar floated out of the bathroom to land on the bed. Remus eyed the jar and raised an eyebrow. "Most teenagers keep this sort of thing beside the bed, not in the bathroom."

"That's my backup. The whole moon-not-now-push-you-away thing used up the at hand supply." Draco cheekily replied.

Remus positively smirked as he opened the container. "Did you brew this yourself?" He asked in a disinterested tone and dipped a long finger inside. The odd conversation giving him time to tame the beast a bit. After all, Draco had requested gentle treatment – or at least non-damaging treatment. Currently, he wasn't sure he could guarantee that.

Draco nodded mutely, eyes glued to his professor's hand.

"Hm, how domestic." Remus moved back closer to Draco, and the boy's eyes closed of their own volition. He drew in a harsh breath as his legs were gently parted and the cool slick finger touched him.

He'd expected Remus to be quick and anything but gentle after the start of the encounter, but the slow teasing progress the werewolf was making was an unwelcome change. "Remus," Draco moaned and the werewolf used his free hand to stop the boy from pushing back against him. "Please." The two gray eyes fluttered back open to catch the feral amber ones above. "There is a difference between being able to walk and falling asleep."

A deep laugh rippled over him and the finger went away. Draco opened his mouth to renew his protest, when two digits suddenly and quickly squirmed into him. "Much….better." He muttered darkly and leaned back into the pillows and tried again to push down onto the invading fingers.

Remus let him this time, scissoring them less gently. He was slightly amazed at how relaxed Draco was, and how open. But then again, with the boy's reputation he should have expected as much. Pushing that less than charitable thought aside, Remus finished his – what was for him quick – preparations. Draco's eyes snapped fully open at the understood implication. He didn't have any time to comment, however, before Remus pushed into him.

Remus was lost in an instant. He hadn't had this sort of contact with another person in far too long, and never like this. Never with someone so willing, so at ease. How could Draco be at ease with this? Remus had never felt safe in that position. Maybe it was his choice of lovers, and not the act? He wondered. Then his mind stopped its higher functions, the wolf started behaving in his head, and Remus _felt_. The feeling of Draco's hands on his back, urging him forward. The smell of the younger wizard, sweat and semen, arousal and happiness. The taste that lingered in his mouth and hung in the air. The ghost of breath that filtered up to him, the moans that came from his own mouth to be answered by the glorious creature beneath him. It was overwhelming, and Remus welcomed it all. He'd needed to do this. He had to do this. He'd waited for it to long, this could have been his so much sooner.

Draco felt nearly the same as Remus' length pushed its way inside. In reality, he would have welcomed it without any preparation – pain or not. He was use to varying degrees of treatment from past lovers – anything from intensely careful to down right sadistic. But the mingling of the two was new, and Remus did it beautifully. He did everything beautifully.

It didn't take long for Remus to climax with a growl but sans the normal evidence, Draco's remarkable recovery time causing his own seed to spill just moments later as Remus' hand aided the cause. One of them managed to find the forgotten wand, and a muttered cleaning charm left them less sticky.

Draco sighed in contentment as he rested his head in the crook of Remus' arm, the werewolf having fallen asleep in a matter of seconds. Draco smiled and drew a deep breath, memorizing the man's scent. Things were starting to look up in the world.

/ / / /

Meanwhile, Harry was frantically trying to come up with a way to get Lucius to _stop_ talking about his homework. Now was not the time for schoolwork. The elder Malfoy seemed to sense the younger wizard's attitude, and so he gleefully continued to preach about meaningless Ministry regulations.

It took Harry a full minute to realize that while Lucius' voice was still droning on in a monotone about the incompetences of the 1870's Ministry, his hand had started a journey south in Harry's lap.

It took another minute for Harry to react. He instinctively parted his legs a bit, and shifted to give the man better access. Lucius didn't break stride in his lecture, if anything his voice became even more lazy. Harry moaned as long fingers worked his robes up into a ball in his lap, only to dive underneath. Merlin be damned, but Ministry politics had just gotten interesting.

A gentle tingle spread through Harry's mind as the link with Lucius flared back to life, and he heard the older man's voice stumble. "Lucius…" He moaned, and resisted the urge to thrust up into the questing fingers. "As amusing as I'm sure you're finding this…."

"Bed?" Lucius asked his voice now deep and husky as the emotions and sensations from his young lover passed to him through the odd magical bond they seemed to create with nothing but touch.

Harry nodded solemnly and climbed onto Lucius' lap to plant a deep and searing kiss on the man's lips before sliding to the floor and down the long solid legs underneath him. He led the way to the bedroom, and then hesitated beside the bed, eyes firmly on the floor.

Lucius gently raised his chin and pushed the dark hair back to reveal those impossibly green eyes. "We can go as slowly as you want, Harry. Just tell me what you need." Lucius' gentle smile caused Harry to shudder and collapse in the man's arms.

"I want…I just can't…" The desire and near terror radiating from the boy was like a fog, and Lucius had trouble for a moment containing the magic that was being released. No wonder the boy almost passed out with every kiss, Lucius thought to himself.

He held the Gryffindor tightly for a long moment before he calmly and slowly moved away. "Do you trust me?" His voice was stronger than he had feared it would be, and the boy nodded almost instantly – much to Lucius' amusement. Wordlessly, Lucius pulled his wand and a soft black fold of fabric appeared in his free hand. He brought the cloth up to Harry's eyes, and slowly blindfolded the boy.

Harry whimpered softly, and Lucius instantly regretted not being able to see the green orbs. But the younger man's body seemed to relax almost immediately as sight was taken away, and Lucius did not regret his snap decision. Harry was nervous about doing something wrong, and that Lucius would reject him. The fear of seeing a negative reaction from his older lover was taken away by the black strip of fabric. What Harry could not see could not hurt him, his subconscious gleefully informed him, and Harry believed it happily.

With careful hands, Lucius stripped both himself and Harry, before guiding the Gryffindor to the bed. Harry's body tensed a bit as Lucius eased his legs apart. The older wizard made a soft sound and calmly petted his lover for a moment before Harry relaxed again. Lucius took his time preparing Harry, letting the boy set the pace.

When he finally entered Harry, the magic between them seemed to explode. Neither could remember the actual act the next morning, but the room looked as if a whirlwind had hit it. And for the first time, Harry wasn't nervous about doing something wrong. With Lucius, he knew it wouldn't matter anymore.

/ / / /

Tom Riddle sat bolt upright in bed, a sheen of cold sweat covering his brow. "What was that?" He asked, his voice shaky. His hands trembled as he reached for his wand to light the bedside candle.

The woman next to him was also wide awake, and her red eyes flared in the dim light of the flickering candle. "That was a magical event." Tom stared at her in obvious consternation. Of course it was a magical event, but what did it mean? Sensing the question, the woman's brow knitted and she frowned. "Call the Death Eaters. We need to find out what happened."

Tom shook his head no. "If we do that, they'll only ask me what happened. If I don't have a good answer, they'll loose the faith that I know everything. We can't afford that."

"We need to know what that was!" His lover angrily bit out, her teeth bared in an alarming fashion.

Tom shivered and pulled her into a tight embrace, more to keep from being able to see her eyes than in an attempt at giving comfort. "I know. What could it have been?"

A cold breeze rustled the bed curtains. "That love, is what we going to have to find out. Something important happened just now, and we had best be able to use it to our advantage."

Tom shuddered as the Mark on his own arm gave a harsh flare. Whatever it was, he knew it had been one of his fold. And that was never a good thing anymore.


	6. Chapter 5: Legato

_A/N: I'm back! I know, I know, I haven't made a real update in two years. Grad. school is a life sucking experience that drains all your free time when you also work 40 hours a week. _

_Anyway, this is now an AU story. I**T DOES NOT USE BOOKS 6 or 7. ** _

**_If any of my old beta's see this posting and are still interested in working with me on this story I'd love to have you back. A newbie or two would also be welcome. _**

* * *

The summer swirled by in a haze of lessons and love making and the Malfoy Mansion became a dream land for its four happy inhabitants, a dream land they all knew could not last. Draco and Remus' verbal sparing and constant bickering were a sure sign of their mutual affection and as September neared it only increased. Lucius and Harry, on the other hand, had grown so close that the thought of the impending return to Hogwarts made them both sullen and silent whenever not engaged in lessons. Nearly every waking and sleeping moment was spent in each other's company to the point that Draco started to jokingly ask if he should call Harry 'mother'.

In less than 24 hours the boys and Remus would leave to start a new school year. Remus was anxious to get back to Hermione and make sure she was still doing well – especially since she'd transformed without him during the last two full moons with only Snape for company. Draco was rather ambivalent by all outward appearances but internally he was hesitant, worried about the need to keep his relationship with Remus a secret. Remus, being used to secrets, wasn't that concerned about it. Harry, however, was wishing for the first time in his life for a school delay. As it was, he could feel the magical near-honeymoon ending. Lucius was also dreading the separation and had done all he could to keep the young Gryffindor in near constant physical contact, the heady mix of magic that rolled off Harry and the gentle golden presence of his mind a constant comfort to the frazzled Death Eater.

Harry and Lucius were lying in bed once again, the calm afternoon sun rays turning the seeker's skin bronze as he lay exposed to his lover's tender gaze. Lucius gently traced one of the scars that ran down Harry's side, his grey eyes confused and pained. The scar was obviously old, the skin puckered and stretched. It had to have happened when Harry was quite young, the scar tissue warped and tugged from growth spurts. Harry giggled slightly as Lucius' hesitant movements grazed across his torso. So many scars for one so young. Lucius sighed heavily and Harry turned in his arms, a question in his eyes.

Lucius looked into the startling green eyes of his lover and smiled gently. "Harry, can I ask you a personal question?"

The boy snorted and wiggled closer to his older lover and grinned. "Lucius, I'm naked in your bed and we're both covered in our own questionable bodily fluids. I think you have every right to ask me a personal question." Harry frowned slightly. "I can't promise I'll like it though, and I might not answer but you can certainly ask."

Lucius rolled his eyes and leaned up a bit on his pillow so he could look down at Harry. "You are spending too much time with Severus and I. You are starting to sound like a Slytherin."

"Flattery will get you anywhere." Harry grinned impishly recognizing the complement for what it was and then smirked. "Of course, since you've already been everywhere..."

Lucius couldn't help leaning over and kissing Harry silent before going back to his former position, looking down at his lover – a contemplative expression on his face. His fingers reached out again to trace the scar that had first grabbed his attention. Harry shivered at the contact but didn't say anything.

"You have so many scars, Harry." Lucius' eyes traveled over what was visible of his younger lover. The scar on Harry's forehead, the one on his arm from the Dark Lord's resurrection, the faint hint of words on the back of his hand from the charmed quill, a small burn mark on his other arm from Merlin knew what... Lucius knew from their encounters that Harry had various marks nearly everywhere. A few Lucius could recognize as a mixture of curse marks or things you'd expect to see on a Quidditch player. Others… others even he couldn't fathom the cause of. He scrapped a nail over the puckered flesh of the scar along Harry's rib. "Why?" He looked up into Harry's eyes and frowned deeply. "Why so many, Harry? What are they all from?"

Harry's face froze and his breath stopped for a moment before a look of anger and embarrassment flashed over his features. For a moment Lucius thought he'd get hexed, than Harry closed his eyes and sighed, sounding for all the world like an old and exhausted man instead of the seventeen year-old he was. He rolled over so he was facing away from Lucius, reaching an arm back to pull his lover up behind him until Lucius was spooned up against him, the younger man wrapped safely in his lover's arms.

"That one was from the doctors re-inflating my lung in the emergency room." Harry's voice was a little uneven. "I was about 5 ½ at the time."

Lucius sucked in a quick breath of his own, his arms tightening around Harry. "Whatever could have caused you that kind of an injury at 5 years old!"

Harry gave a small shrug, as much of one as he could manage being held so tightly. Lucius rested his head on top of Harry's and adjusted their angle so he could just barely catch sight of Harry's face in his bedroom dressing mirror. The Boy-Who-Lived had his eyes tightly squeezed shut and Lucius was surprised to see a bit of moister glistening in the corners.

Harry took a shaky breath. "It's a long story, Lucius. You don't want to hear it."

"Yes, yes I do." Lucius wrapped a leg over Harry, managing somehow to pull him even closer. "But only if you want to tell it."

It took a while for Harry to start talking again, his eyes still tightly shut. "Hermione always says she's lives her life by three P's. Practicality, pragmatism, and purpose. She says that's all she had growing up and that it's a pretty safe way to live." Harry bit his bottom lip. "I didn't have those so much. I had five things growing up." He stopped talking as a tear finally wound its way down his cheek.

"What were they?" Lucius asked quietly.

"I had anger." Harry coughed a bit. "I had fear, and pain. I had hate, oh Merlin did I have hate." He gave a tiny almost sob. "And I had hope. Somehow I survived on that, a weird strange cocktail of hate and hope." Harry shuddered. "I know you read that article Skeeter wrote, about what life was like for me with my _family_." Harry practically snarled the word. "She really didn't get it all. There were times I wanted to die just to make it all stop, but I wouldn't let that happen. If I died that meant they won, they'd be happy and I hated them so much I'd do anything to spite them, even live." Harry shuddered again, harder. "That scar was from the first time I realized exactly how much I hated them, how they weren't the proper family and that it wasn't me that was wrong, it was them."

Harry relaxed slightly into Lucius, preparing to tell his sorry tale.

"My Aunt Petunia had put me and Dudley, my cousin, into a half-day school for young children. They were supposed to teach us numbers and letters, that sort of thing. Muggles call it pre-school. She wouldn't have spent the money to send me except it gave her a few hours everyday without me around.

"I was in the same classroom as Dudley since we're exactly the same age and we'd both had the same education at home – nothing." Harry snorted. "I didn't make friends. Dudley would bully everyone and so the other kids were afraid to try and get to know me. The couple that did try got beat up so eventually they all just ignored me. Everyone would go outside to play and I'd sit in the classroom and color pictures. I wasn't allowed to have any paper or crayons at home so I really liked to draw when I was at school."

Lucius cringed. What kind of a people wouldn't even give a child scrap paper and pencil?

Harry continued in a quiet voice. "I'd been there for about a month when our teacher told us that we'd be having a new girl coming around for a few days a week. Her name was Stephanie and she'd been ill. She wouldn't be able to come everyday, but when she was feeling up to it her mother and father thought she'd like to spend some time with other children. The first day Stephanie came she looked so small it was scary. Her eyes were all sunk in and she was actually yellow. She was so thin, Lucius I swear you could see every bone and every vessel right through her skin. Even her voice was weak. She had trouble even picking up a carton of milk at snack time." Harry reached a hand up and wiped angrily at his tears which were now falling in earnest. "I never did figure out exactly what was wrong with her. I thought later it might have been leukemia, but she had all her hair so it must not have been cancer."

Harry took a shaky breath. "Needless to say, she didn't go outside with the other kids to play either. They didn't want anything to do with her, she was weird and different and scary. Dudley cried if he even had to go within 10 feet of her." Harry snorted. "That's what made me go sit with her that first day. She made Dudley upset and that meant she was a possible friend he couldn't chase away. I stayed inside too, so we both got to coloring and talking." Harry's expression got a bit wistful and Lucius placed a tiny kiss to the top of his head. "Stephanie was my first friend." Harry opened his eyes long enough to catch site of Lucius in the mirror and give him a small smile before he closed them again and snuggled back closer. "We got pretty close during that year, well as close as two five year olds in pre-school ever really get.

"She got worse. It was horrible, Lucius. She was wasting away right in front of me," Harry cringed. "I'll never forget the last day she came to class. She was in a wheel chair and her mother pulled the teacher to the side to talk and they both looked so upset. I went up to Stephanie to ask her what was wrong. She just looked at me and smiled and told me she was dying." Harry's body trembled slightly. "Just like that. 'I'm dying, Harry, that's all.' She said it like you'd say it's sunny outside. So matter of fact."

Harry's breathe shuddered. "I didn't really know what death was then. I knew my parents were dead and that meant I had to live with the Dursleys and that I'd never ever get to meet them, but I didn't really understand it. Stephanie told me that it was okay that she was going to die because she hurt all the time. She smiled and told me she couldn't wait to die because when she did she'd get to see her cat again – he'd been hit by a car a few months back. So she'd get to see Muffin the cat and she wouldn't hurt anymore and everything would be normal again. She'd be able to run around and play and she'd get to paint pictures with all the messy paints anytime she wanted. She made it sound like the greatest holiday." Harry sobbed and Lucius gently petted his hair till the boy gave a chocked breath and started talking again. "I asked her if I could come too. She smiled and told me I had to wait like her mommy and daddy were waiting but that someday I'd get to follow her. She told me she was a little scared, she'd have to go alone till she found Muffin, but she thought she could manage it.

"Her mother came up then and she'd tried to smile at me but it didn't reach her eyes. She thanked me for sitting with Stephanie so much and told me I was good friend. She even hugged me and she was crying. She told me Stephanie wasn't going to come back again. She pulled out a letter and told me to give it to my parents, she didn't know about them, and said if they'd let me she'd like for me to visit Steph. She was going into hospital because the dialysis wasn't working and she'd have to stay there for a while. I didn't know at the time what dialysis was." Harry leaned his back against Lucius and the older man started to pet him again giving him the strength to continue.

"I took the letter home and asked Uncle Vernon if I could visit Stephanie. I told him she said she was dying and that I was worried she'd be lonely in the hospital until Muffin got there." Harry's voice hardened. "He didn't even open it. He just chucked it in the fire and told me I shouldn't hang around sick people or I might catch something. He locked me in the cupboard without dinner." Harry shivered at the memory. "The next few days at school the teacher kept looking at me and she'd start to cry and I couldn't figure out why. I finally asked her what was wrong about a week later. She pulled me into a hug and told me that Stephanie was getting worse and asked me why I hadn't been to see her. I told her my Uncle wouldn't let me go and she got this scary look in her eye when I mentioned what had happened when I'd asked." Harry gave a dark laugh. "She said she'd see what she could do but that in the mean time she'd help me write a letter to Stephanie and she'd deliver it to the hospital. I don't remember the name now, but I recognized it then. It was where Uncle Vernon had gone to have foot surgery a little before so I knew what it looked like. I told my teacher what to write and she put it all down on paper for me and the whole time I kept thinking how much I wanted to see Stephanie, how I missed my friend."

Harry sighed. "The other kids went out to play again and the teacher went with them so I was alone in the room. I tried to color like normal but I kept thinking about Stephanie. I could remember the hospital so well and I kept thinking about her lying in that big bed with all the buttons like Uncle Vernon had and how it smelled funny and was so cold. The next thing I know I'm standing in the hallway outside her room and I can see her mother sitting in a chair, her eyes all red."

Lucius stiffened in surprise. "You apparated? You apparated to that hospital after only being there once, and at five?"

Harry shrugged. "I guess. It wasn't like I even knew magic existed though. One second I was in the classroom, the next I'm a little dizzy and outside Stephanie's room. At the time it felt so natural I really didn't think about it." Harry sighed heavily and squirmed backwards until Lucius relaxed and went back to holding him.

"I went into the room and her mum looked up at me and she let out this little squeal. She was so happy to see me she didn't even ask where my parents were. She just pulled this big ugly chair up the bed and plopped me down on it so I could see Stephanie and she started mumbling something about going and getting me a cookie or something then without warning she picked me up out the chair and twirled me around like a rag doll, hugging me so hard I couldn't breath before she dropped me back into it. Then she ran out of the room to find the cookies smiling the entire time. I think she was so overjoyed that Stephanie got to see me again she couldn't think straight. Looking back, she probably wanted her daughter to have as much of a normal life as possible and had tried so hard to give her at least a taste of it."

Harry's eyes were closed again and he had another set of tears winding down his cheeks. "Stephanie looked like she was already dead. She was a weird shade of yellow green and she had so many tubes and wires stuck to her. Her hair was greasy and lank and she couldn't even hold her head up. But her eyes were the same, dancing at me and she tried to laugh at her mother's behavior." Harry's voice hitched. "I told her I was sorry I hadn't come right away but that my Uncle wasn't happy about me being friends with her. She got this funny frown on her face and said it had happened before, with other kids she knew. She told me not to worry about it and that she was just happy to see me. She was so mature for her age. I think being sick so much aged her." Harry gave another tiny sob and squeezed his eyes shut even tighter. "Her mother came back in and gave me the cookies but said Stephanie couldn't have them. I told her if Stephanie couldn't have them I wouldn't either. Stephanie told her mom that there was a kid in the next room that could have chocolate and asked me if I'd mind giving them to him. I said that was a great idea and her mother started sobbing."

Harry stopped talking for a long moment. "It took about an hour for her father to show up. He was a little faster on the uptake and asked where my parents were. Stephanie told him they were dead and that my Uncle wasn't a very nice man. He asked me how I got to the hospital. Something told me not to tell him the truth so I lied and said I'd walked. I don't know how far it really was from our school but it must not have been too far because they believed me and called the school to have them find my Uncle or Aunt." Harry's body stiffened in memory. "I could hear them arguing clear down the hall when they came to pick me up. I tried to give Stephanie a last hug but it wasn't much – I couldn't get close enough because of her IV." Harry's eyes opened back up and stared unseeing at the wall. "She asked if I'd like her to take a message to my parents. I remember her mother nearly screamed she sobbed so loud and her husband was holding her, trying to get her to calm down. I didn't understand it; Stephanie had talked like death would be so nice. Why were they upset? I thought about what I could have her tell my parents for a moment. I remember grinning and telling her that if she saw them to say 'Harry says hello'." Harry closed his eyes again. "That's when Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia barged in. He grabbed me so hard that he nearly broke my arm. He yanked me out of the room so fast I didn't even get to say goodbye to anyone."

Harry's body stiffened again and his voice got dangerously cold. "When we got home he started hitting me. He didn't stop till Aunt Petunia made him, she kept saying it was a bad idea to provoke me after what happened – it might not be safe. I think she knew I'd done some kind of magic to get to the hospital and she was scared that if Vernon hurt me bad enough I might lash out at him magically." Harry snorted. "He threw me into my cupboard and kicked me in the ribs. I remember him locking the door and I could smell dinner on the table. I was so hungry but by ribs hurt so bad and I couldn't seem to catch my breath." Harry pulled Lucius' arms tighter around him. "I lay there all night in pain. I started to hope I'd die because Stephanie said it would make all the pain go away. But then I heard Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon talking. She said something about it being a pity I wasn't sick too then they could be rid of me. They joked about Stephanie! Called her names, it was horrible. I made the decision that night that there was no way I'd die too no matter how nice it was, because they wanted me too. I wasn't going to give them the satisfaction." Harry's voice was hard as steel.

"In the morning they tried to get me up but I wasn't in any shape to move. They locked the door again and left me there, alone. When I didn't show up for school my teacher remembered what I'd said before about my Uncle and the letter. She'd noticed all the bruises I had all the time. She called the police and sometime that afternoon they showed up and demanded that my Aunt let them inspect the property and take a look at me. She didn't want to, but they made her. They rushed me to the hospital and I..." Harry's brow furred in deep thought. "I was too young to understand what was going on, but I think Vernon had broken a rib and it had punctured my lung or something. They had to do some kind of surgery to re-inflate it. I was really little and all I can remember is how much it hurt and how scared I was. There were all these adults and they were using really big words and there were machines everywhere... The doctor was surprised I'd lasted the night. I probably wouldn't have it wasn't for my magic."

Lucius was quite for a moment. "If they came and got you, how did you end up back with the Dursleys? Surly the muggles don't return children after something like that."

Harry snorted and rolled away from Lucius so he could turn to face the man. "My Uncle came up with some kind of a story about how I'd gotten into a fight with some older kids. He made me sound like some kind of anti-social trouble maker and said they had to lock me up at night to protect Dudley. They even claimed I'd tried to set the house on fire once and Aunt Petunia showed them the burn marks on the carpet. They bought it. Didn't matter that I told the truth, it was Dudley that had been playing with matches. The court placed Vernon on some kind of probation and did random checks for the next year. Problem was, Vernon just paid off the woman that was doing the checks. I only saw her once and she never came back. They made my life such a hell for the next 6 months I never dared try and report them again. Vernon never hurt me like that again, though. I think he was scared what would happen if I ended up in hospital for a second time." Harry looked into Lucius' eyes and angrily wiped another tear away. "I never got to go back to the pre-school. But Dudley came home a week later bragging that my friend was dead. The teacher had announced it. The entire class was invited to her funeral. The Dursleys went, to save face, but they kept me locked in my cupboard."

Lucius didn't say anything as Harry finished talking. His grey eyes, however, spoke volumes. They swirled in the afternoon light, dark and stormy. His grip on Harry tightened and the boy could feel his lover's fierce protective anger through their strange link. Harry reached a hand up and cupped the side of Lucius' face gently.

"Don't be angry for me, Lucius. I've spent too long angry over it all myself. It won't do any good now."

Lucius scowled. "I could easily give them a tour of the lower floors of this house."

Harry cringed. "You know, there was a time I might have taken you up on that, but not anymore. The Dursleys have paid for their behavior, Lucius. Dudley almost got killed by a Dementor. I've cost my Uncle a fortune in lost business deals and home repairs. I inflated his sister…." Harry grinned and sent Lucius the memory of Aunt Marge and sighed in satisfaction as the blond smirked. "Look, I just don't want to see them again. I'm done with them, love. I've left them behind."

Lucius nodded silently and kissed the top of Harry's head affectionately. "It is a good thing I'm a Death Eater or I'd go after them regardless." Harry chuckled and Lucius frowned. "I'm serious, Harry. If I thought for one moment I could kill those bastards and not have to answer to the Dark Lord or the Ministry I'd do it. As it is, the Dark Lord's developed a soft spot for your family after that Skeeter article."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Figures." Harry snorted and then cuddled closer. "Seriously, Lucius, I don't want you to kill for me. I'm a big boy, I can take care of the little muggles myself. They really weren't that bad after I got my Hogwarts letter. They realized they couldn't have me going back to the magical world injured so they laid off. Besides, I never have to go back there, not anymore. Life's good." He smiled into Lucius' chest.

The blond settled down into the pillows and sighed. "You are an odd person, Harry. Anybody else would want revenge."

"What goes around comes around." Harry smiled softly. "Anyway, I don't want to spend our last few hours together talking about my miserable family."

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "What did you have in mind?"

Harry smirked.

* * *

_** 24 hours later...at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry **_

"Would you sit down!" Severus finally yelled and his wife gave a quick start.

"I can't help it!" Hermione growled out before plopping down on the couch and crossing her arms. "They'll be here any minute! Remus was going to escort them on the train and the train just pulled into Hogsmeade."

Severus rolled his eyes. "And you can't go and great them. We both know what the Dark Lord will expect after a summer spent with the _Dark Arts_. We're both on the most wanted list. Harry and Draco won't be able to be seen in public with us unless it's at wand point!"

Hermione deflated a bit and sighed. "I know. I know. I just…"

Severus sat down next to her and put his hand on her knee. "You miss them."

Hermione bit her lip. "Yes, I do." She leaned into Severus and groaned. "This has been the best summer ever and the worst. I mean, I've had the whole school library to myself, I've had you, but then I also had werewolf transformations, Occlumency lessons, and more trips to the infirmary than my entire Hogwarts career combined!"

"Don't forget those all-night Arithmancy marathons you've been doing lately." Severus smirked as Hermione gently slapped him. "It will be alright, child. We'll go up and take our places in the Great Hall in a little while. The students will burst in. You'll run up to Harry, be insulted, and then go sit with the Weasleys. Harry will sulk at the far end of the table and Draco will smirk the entire time. The first years will come in, we'll go through that horrid sorting nonsense. We'll all get ill watching Weasley shovel food down his throat and then you, Remus, Draco, Harry, and I will all meet back here and have a nice little get together while the rest of the Gryffindor wonders where everyone went. In the morning Harry and Draco will make some sort of grand public display of friendship and the entire school will blow up."

Hermione snorted. "You make it sound so easy, like it's normal for me to pretend my best friend hates me. This is going to be the longest year _ever_!" She huffed and ran a hand through her messy hair and growled lightly.

Severus couldn't help laughing. "It was _your_ idea, my dear. Pay the piper and all that."

Hermione smacked him.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was shocked. His eyes grew large hearing the words of his two guests and the lemon drop he'd been holding clattered onto his desk and rolled onto the floor after his fingers lost their grip. It took a lot to shock the old wizard. Few could manage it. His brother, however, was one of the lucky few still living that possessed that special talent.

Aberforth Dumbledore sat smirking in the guest chair across from the Headmaster, his hand resting rather indecently on the upper thigh of the room's third occupant, one Autolysis Snape. Severus' father was more stoic than his amorous counterpart. The usual cloud of senility was missing from his eyes and his mouth was turned down at the seriousness of their visit.

"What are you saying, Aberforth?" Albus asked, his voice slightly higher than normal.

His brother's smirk grew to Severus sized proportions and Albus started to wonder if there was a connection. "We're asking for your help, Albus. We're concerned for our daughter."

Albus swallowed thickly. "Your daughter?"

Autolysis nodded and leaned towards the Headmaster dislodging his lover's hand. "We were very lucky, Albus. Aber was quite aged when he conceived Niamh. It came as a shock to us both. After all, male pregnancy is extremely rare and can only take place when there is a significant magical bond between the partners. Due to my rather strained and forced marriage to the hag and Aberforth's arranged bonding we thought that level of connection to be impossible."

"You had to be over a hundred!" Albus shook his head. "That's impossible!"

Aberforth giggled in a disturbing manner and Autolysis rolled his eyes before continuing his explanation. "Since male pregnancy does not rely on the same biological mechanisms as a female pregnancy age is not important. The magic necessary to create such a miracle is more than able to overcome such a petty consideration as age, Albus. Witches have been able to give birth at the same age with magical intervention anyway."

It was here that Aberforth's mirth disappeared. "Albus, the how and the way don't matter. You've known for years that I had a relationship outside my marriage and my lifelong friendship with ­­­Autolysis is well established. I never told you with whom I had the affair to protect Auto. His wife is Dark, Albus. Darker than anyone I've ever encountered. She married him for the Snape name, blackmailed and forced the family into it. The only thing that's saved his life all these years is his acting ability! Now, now we fear she might be catching on."

Autolysis sighed heavily. "My son's bonding has created a greater tension in the household. I believe that had we another child Severus' life would be in danger from his own mother. As it is, I fear ­­­­Aerona Snape has discovered my indiscretions as well as the existence of our illegitimate daughter."

"We can't protect her ourselves." Aberforth continued. "Auto must stay at Snape Manor and report anything he learns. We believe his wife has joined with Voldemort, but we are not certain in what capacity. There is a large portion of the house he can no longer enter. We have reason to believe Voldemort may in fact be residing at Snape Manor."

Albus started. "You are sure?"

"No." Autolysis sighed. "That is why I must stay at her side and continue with my charade. Niamh has not made wise choices in her life. She became involved several years ago with an individual I believe you have recently become aquatinted with. They had a child. Now Niamh and her daughter Deirdre are in danger."

Albus rubbed the bridge of his nose. "How in Merlin's name did you manage to hide a child in Hogsmeade, Aberforth! That town's gossip mill is worse than the school's."

His brother's smirk returned. "I'm old, eccentric, and my wife is long dead. There was no one around to notice, and if they did we always said she was a relative visiting her poor childless 3rd cousin. Niamh went quietly to school in France and returned equally quietly to Britain. She got a job in Diagon Alley at one of the lesser robe makers and has led a quiet life."

"Until Soren Wales." Autolysis bit out angrily. "I have never hit one of my children, but I'm starting to think I'd like to. What was she thinking! She knew what would happen if that bitch ever found out about her! We could never even tell Albus he was an uncle or tell Severus he had a sister -all for her protection, than she went and..."

"It is too late to blame her, Auto." Aberforth sighed heavily and placed a comforting hand on his lover's shoulder before turning grave eyes back to his brother. "Niamh went missing two days after Soren was killed. We have not been able to locate her. I fear...I fear she is dead, Albus."

The Headmaster closed his eyes in pain. "I am sorry, for both of you. I will do what I can to find information on her whereabouts. Is it possible she went into hiding?"

Aberforth shook his head. "No, she would never have left without Deirdre, her and Soren's daughter. When I hadn't heard from Niamh in several days I went to look for her at her cottage. I found Deirdre nearly faint from hunger all alone in the house. She's three, Albus, and she hadn't had a thing to eat in days." Abeforth's voice broke as he fought off tears.

Here Severus' father took over again to allow his lover to compose himself. "I can not take in the child nor can Aber. His health is not well enough to continue to care for a toddler and I am in no position to do so. I...I have to ask you to do us a great favor."

Albus eyed both men carefully. "What is it you require?"

The two wizards eyed one another before Autolysis slowly looked to the ground. "My son, Severus, does not know any of this. I have never had the chance to tell him how his mother came to be my wife or the truth behind who and what I am. As a child she never let Severus out of her sight. On the few occasions I might have had an opportunity I was too fearful he would not be able to keep my secret and once he was old enough for Hogwarts he started to avoid our family home at nearly any cost. I thought to try and contact him by owl, but I am watched too closely for that and in the end I thought the truth would put him in more danger than it was worth. I can leave the Manor without a problem to visit old friends or shop, but every move I make inside it is carefully controlled and my destinations monitored. The only reason I am able to see Aber is because of the long standing feud between the two of you. I took a great risk coming here, Albus. If she learns I visited Hogwarts Severus will be in grave danger, sole heir or not. I do not wish for Deirdre to be left without a family but I can not take her to Severus myself. Please, will you talk to my son, explain this for me and see if he and his young wife can not be persuaded to take his sister in under a cover of your choosing?"

Albus blinked slowly at his brother and his Potion Master's father. Even at his age the universe still managed to scare the hell out of him with its little surprises.

* * *

Hermione sat alone at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall and waited. It would not be long now until the hall filled with students, faces rosy from the cold night air, the second years babbling about the 'horseless' carriages, the older students acting like they weren't impressed by anything anymore. Then the first years would burst in all wide eyed and frightened/awed. Hermione sighed. It was times like these she felt old.

So little time had passed since she'd road those damp boats towards the castle lights, her heart bounding and her eyes too frantic too focus. Just a few years since she'd huddled close to her year mates and tried to hide her trepidation with quickly recited facts as she walked for the first time into the Great Hall and took in what would soon become her home.

Hogwarts. How many students had it seen in its life? How many had sat on her same worn bench and thought these thoughts? How many? Hermione couldn't guess the number but instinctively she knew that none of them had entertained quite the same outlook as she now held. Hermione was all of 17 and she was too old for her bench, too old for her uniform robes, and far far too old for Opening Feasts and meaningless warnings about using magic in the hallways. She'd faced death and torture. She'd lost everyone and everything she'd ever held dear. She was the Lady to two dying Houses. She was a wife to an ex-Death Eater spy. She was the brilliant yet frightening witch that held the Golden Trio together. And if her Arithmancy calculations were not off, which they never were, she would play a pivotal role in the downfall of the Dark Lord. In short, Hermione Granger-Penwrath-Snape had seen things, done things, survived things that were incompatible with the role of student. She was better qualified to teach DADA than she was to sit the course.

Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Last year had been horrific. She'd survived all the changes and the constant fear by sheer will power alone. This year, this year she was tired. She wanted a break. A nice long vacation in some desolate deserted corner of her family's woods with no human contact. She loved Severus; she really did – to her great surprise. He had proven to be a savoir and a comfort to Hermione, odd though that may seem to everyone else. Still, Hermione longed for a few moments to herself, time away from his brooding edgy presence. Time away from the constant reminder of the war and the pain it brought.

It would be bad enough, she thought, if the only concern she had was the war. Classes, and NEWTS, Quidditch and essays. What was the point?

Hermione stared at the candle flame in front of her. She missed her home. Not Ravenshire, not the mansion she'd barely spent time in. No, she missed her muggle home. She missed the curtains her mother had spent two weeks sewing and never could get the hem right on. She missed the spot on the dinning room carpet from a gravy dish that her father overturned at Easter when she was seven. She missed the annoying bird that always nested right outside her window every spring and would start signing at exactly 4am every single day. She missed the sounds of the cars on the street outside, the smell of the neighbor's wood fireplace in winter, the calluses she'd get on her hands raking leaves in the fall. She missed the quiet comfort of her _home_.

Hogwarts was her home now, Hermione reflected a little bitterly. She loved the castle, she really did. It was huge and full of yet unlearned secrets. A lifetime could be spent exploring it and still not every corner could be found. But it was magical, pure magic and Hermione for once in her life wanted something the exact opposite.

Ever since she was old enough to reach the top of the stove, Hermione had developed her own ritual of comfort. She'd pull out her Grandmother's old copper kettle and fill it with ice cold tap water. She'd put it on the stove and turn the dial and watch with fascination as the blue gas flames would start to life and wrap up the sides of the kittle. The blue light would spill into the kitchen, the flickering flames casting her face and her mother's curtains in the same disturbingly beautiful light. She'd watch the flickers of blue curl and dance till the steam would pour from the spout and she'd slowly and regretfully turn of the gas and take the kettle off the iron grill and pour the water over the tea leaves in the chipped blue teapot on the counter. Sometimes she never even bothered to drink her tea. The boiling of the water was the calming part of the ritual, the flames her comfort.

The wizarding world did not need gas cookers. They did not need dancing blue flames that flickered and spurted. They had mage-fire and witch-light, both dancing their own dance to their own set of rules. Nothing that gave the same peace to Hermione as the old half-broken down range in her mother's cluttered kitchen. She'd give half her books for the chance to watch those flames dance one more time.

Hermione heard the sound of the professors entering the hall through their special entrance and she sniffed the air to confirm Severus was with them. Her senses were now nearly painfully sharp since her transformation. The wolf in her could sniff out her mate even miles into the Forbidden Forest. Hermione did not turn to look at the staff table. Instead she pulled her wand and turned the dancing candle flame blue. It would have to do.

* * *

Severus entered the Great Hall and found his wife sitting alone at her House table, a dancing blue flamed candle in front of her, her eyes glued to it as if it held the secrets of the world. She was still not back to normal. Severus sat down heavily in his chair. She would never be normal again. As he'd told her two idiot friends, the things she saw precluded normalcy. But he wanted his bouncing Gryffindor back. The calculating, haunted, and fierce Hermione that had replaced her was too much like himself to be a comfort. The look in her eyes as she frantically scribbled away at her Arithmancy equations too much like his eyes when he worked on something dark and dangerous for Albus, something even the Order would question if they knew. Poisons and terrible spells were born with that look. Whatever it was Hermione was charting in her parchments, Severus new it could not end pleasantly.

The Headmaster entered last, his face drawn. Severus raised an eyebrow in question and the Headmaster winced. That made Severus snap straight in his seat, his attention now fully focused on the aged wizard. In response Albus cast his eyes wearily downward and shook his head, gesturing towards the great oaken doors of the hall and then to Hermione. They did not have time to talk, his eyes conveyed, and Severus nodded in understanding. After the feast then. Hermione sensed her husband's worry and he felt her eyes jump up to him. Severus caught her gaze and nodded once. They would both speak to the Headmaster after the Sorting Feast.

The doors opened wide and the throng of students poured in. Right on queue Hermione jumped to her feet smiling widely and ran towards Harry. The Boy-Who-Lived took a precious second to catch her eye before putting a remarkably cold sneer onto his face and side-stepping her attempt at an embrace, his expensive new robes swirling to magically avoid even touching his old friend. Severus could not hear what was said but the audible gasp from the students surrounding them and the snickers from his Slytherins made it clear that Harry was performing his part of their performance perfectly. Potter arrogantly pushed past his now weeping friend and proceeded to sit down at the Gryffindor table with all the regal air of Lucius Malfoy, carefully arranging his robes around himself and even managing to grimace superciliously at the worn and battered appearance of the table in front of him. Clearly the boy had learned more than Dark Arts while at Malfoy Manor. Severus wondered how Lucius had managed to impart the trappings of such pureblood arrogance in only one summer.

Severus felt Lupin tense next to him at the table as Draco emerged from behind his two hefty cohorts. The blond made a point of sneering at Hermione, his nose held up in the air in clear distaste. The Slytherins all fell into place behind Draco as the boy calmly glided to their house table. The Dark Lord himself didn't act nearly as imperiously. Malfoy looked for all the world like an Emperor at court as the 2nd-7th years took their seats.

Hermione was still crying throughout Draco's little performance and it was only when the two Weasleys took her by the shoulders and lead her away to their table that she started to pull herself together. She tilted her head a bit to the side to peak out from under her mass of hair towards the high table. Severus barely caught her wink. So far so good.

Severus turned to look at Lupin and his blood froze. The DADA professor was staring at Draco in a manner that Severus knew wasn't platonic concern. So, the werewolf and his godson had finally consummated their unique relationship. Severus looked towards Potter and nearly spit out his drink. Hidden just under the boy's collar was a bright red bite mark, just to the right of spine. As quickly as he caught sight of it, the boy squirmed and re-adjusted his robes and the mark disappeared.

Severus new that mark. That was Lucius' mark. That was the this-is-mine-touch-it-and-die mark Lucius left behind on individuals he had no intention of sharing. Severus had spent years catching glimpses of that mark on Narcissa. Potter and Lucius? Sweet Merlin, what the hell was the boy thinking! What the hell was Lucius thinking! Oh wait, neither one ever thought, so really this shouldn't be a surprise.

Severus nearly groaned and barely resisted the urge to bang his head against the table. At least the Dark Lord will be pleased, Severus thought to himself, letting a cruel grin begin to form on his face. Oh, and Black will have puppies when he finds out. The grin blossomed into full force and a group of third year Hufflepuffs literally squeaked in terror. Severus chuckled darkly. Oh, this might be fun. Lucius, old boy, Severus thought with another sinister grin, you have no idea of what havoc this will cause.

Severus' menacing joviality was not lost on the student population and Hermione fumbled a moment in her tearful performance to glance at him questioningly. He smiled darkly back at her and she bit her bottom lip to stop herself from laughing. She at least knew the truth behind his expression. He was amused and plotting. She would recognize the look well, after all she'd helped him with a prank or two over the summer. The Weasley twins weren't the only ones the Order feared.

Potter looked up at him and sneered, his eyes barely concealing his curiosity. Snape raised a glass towards him in silent toast and the boy snorted and looked quickly away, keeping up his act and his supposed hatred for the traitors.

Lucius and Potter as lovers. Well, that explained how Potter had mastered the patented Malfoy Entrance-- via the French method.

* * *

_**Several hours later in the Headmaster's office...**_

Albus Dumbledore eyed the couple in front of him slowly as they all sat silently in his office. Severus was pretending he wasn't concerned about their summoning, instead glaring at random portraits that had the audacity to wave at him. Hermione was chewing her fingernails. Albus sighed and both of his companions snapped to attention, eyes warily watching him.

"Severus, Hermione," The Headmaster began softly. "I had an interesting visitor just before the Sorting Feast." Albus turned and forced his old eyes to catch the dark young ones of his favorite former pupil. "Severus, your father was here." Slowly, the Headmaster related the events from the afternoon, his voice steady despite the trimmer in his heart.

Severus and Hermione listened silently until he'd finished. Severus was the first to look away, his eyes bright and sad. "I'll never get to really talk to him, will I, Albus? I can't believe he's not really senile..." Severus sighed heavily. "Mother will always keep him away. And she's joined Voldemort." Severus pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed yet again. "I suppose I should have seen that coming."

Hermione snorted. "Evil hag." She shook her head and stood up to pace. "Professor, you do know what this will mean for that poor child, don't you?"

Albus cocked his head to the side. "Well, she can't tell anyone her real name of course. You both will have to do a formal blood adoption to hide her parentage, that way even a Ministry test will only show the two of you as her parents. Everyone in pureblood circles will guess that she's somehow an adopted relation, a bastard from one of your lines. This sort of thing does happen occasionally when there's a need too -- when the heir to a line is unable to bare a child with their wife but had already produced one earlier in a clandestine fashion a blood adoption will allow for a legal and magical transference of heirship. This could save the Snape House from dieing off."

Hermione glared and stopped her pacing to lean over the back of her empty chair bringing herself nose to nose with the headmaster. "I can't have children, Dumbledore. The binding ceremony you did on Severus and I is not reversible. Magically and legally the only child he can have that would inherit is with me or through a blood adoption. So, the little girl will end up being responsible for the heirship to the Penwrath and Snape line as well as _yours_." Hermione watched the headmaster's eyes grow wide. "You didn't think about that did you? Neither you or your brother have any other children. You are the last of the direct Dumbledore line. This little girl carries Penwrath blood through Soren, Snape blood through Autolysis, and Dumbledore blood from your brother. If we do a blood adoption all of which will become legally recognized and magically viable for heirship. She will be faced someday with _having_ to have at least four children, one for each house plus whatever house she marries into. We're condemning a child to being nothing more than a brood mare."

"And lets not forget that neither Hermione nor I have any real wish to have a child." Severus' voice was thick. "I will not toss my half-sister to the wolves, Albus. But I do not think this is wise. If Voldemort and Mother know, than her life will be in even more danger with us than if we placed her with another family – one without these blood and House responsibilities."

Albus sighed and motioned for Hermione to take up her chair again. "I have considered that, Severus. Your father wants her to remain with you and I can understand that. I had not considered what Hermione has just voiced her concern over, however." Albus leaned back in his chair and absentmindedly twirled his beard. "You are correct, Hermione. Even with a blood adoption she will retain heirship to the Dumbledore line. This will not change whether you adopt her or not."

Severus shook his head in frustration. "Your House does not follow the old ways, Albus. So yes, she will be the heir to your House no matter what we do since your House isn't concerned with such petty matters as legal marriages and actual magical lines." The sneer behind the words was cold and bitter. "But only through blood adoption can she claim heirship to the Penwrath and Snape lines, without which both lines will be unable to survive."

"If we don't do this," Hermione's voice shook and her fingers gripped the edges of her chair so hard her knuckles were white. "If we don't do the blood adoption, Severus, both our lines die with us." Hermione turned to look her husband in the eye. "It would give your sister her freedom but condemn both our Houses."

"Eventually another branch would take control." Severus sounded hesitant even to his own ears.

Hermione nodded slowly a dark understanding filtering into her eyes. "After years of infighting and bloodshed."

"So we martyr my sister." Severus' tone was bitter and harsh and both Albus and Hermione winced.

Hermione kept her eyes locked on her husband's despite his glare. "I was willing to let the Penwrath line die, Severus. I never wanted children. I do not care for them. I barely ever was one myself." Hermione looked towards the ceiling and her whole body shook with fear as she finally understood the missing part of her arithmancy calculations, the one element that she had not been able to place in all her long hours of toil over the break, what had kept her awake for endless stretches of time. She felt it all suddenly click into place. She slowly lowered her gaze and again locked eyes with her husband. She let all the pain and regret she felt flash through her mind and saw everything reflected in his eyes. There were no innocents left in the round office this night.

She finally broke eye contact and pulled a sheaf of parchment from inside her robes. With shaking hands she turned the paper over and eased the creases from it before handing it to the Headmaster. "These are my Arithmancy predictions concerning the war and the best course of action to take to neutralize Voldemort, Headmaster. Until now I did not know what the missing piece was. This little girl, she's going to be the point at which we all meet and the Dark Lord falls." Hermione's voice wavered. "Before this I couldn't understand what the runes were showing – they kept pointing to another Penwrath, one with connections to the Snape and Dumbledore lines. I knew that somehow my role was going to be vital, as was Severus' as well as you, Harry, and the Malfoy's, but there was still this large missing piece I could not put a name or face to." Hermione turned and took up her husband's hands. "This is no longer about us, Severus. Deirdre's fate is already cast. Blood adoption or not, she will stand for all our Houses. Voldemort will come for her, as he will come for all of us. The last piece of the puzzle has been forged." Hermione let a slow hot tear run down her cheek. "Your sister and your father will be there – in the end. It is the only way I can find for us to win."


	7. Chapter 6: Sereno

Complications of Birth

Author: Saavik

Disclaimer: I am not making money off of this. I'd like to, but men in black suits would come and take me away.

Summary: Sequel to Contemplations of Birth and the WIP Convergence of Birth. Now in seventh year, our intrepid cast faces the ultimate test of their loyalty, strength, and sanity. A/U: Story started before Books 6 & 7, so is not compliant.

Pairings: HG/SS, HP/LM, DM/RL, GW/CC, and others

Warnings: Spoilers for Book Five. For the rest, see chapter one.

**Chapter 6: ****Sereno**

**

* * *

  
**

Severus and Hermione stood next to the small bed and starred down at the little girl asleep on the fuzzy purple blanket she'd brought with her from her former home-and her former life. Dumbledore had taken the liberty of doing some "shopping" for the newest Snape and had filled the recently magically created dungeon room with what could only be described as an orgy of garish decorations and magical toys, all transfigured from random bits of whatnot that been laying around the Headmaster's office. Severus had nearly choked at the first sight but Hermione had just shaken her head in quiet resignation before gently depositing their charge on the new bed.

Deirdre had slept through their entire conversion in the Headmaster's office, curled up on Albus' bed. She'd barely even stirred when Albus had retrieved her from his private rooms and pricked her tiny little finger for the blood they needed to hold the adoption ceremony. Severus assumed his father had dosed her with a sleeping potion before transporting her to Hogwarts, one he hoped would last the night. The little girl was obviously exhausted from her ordeal and the way she clutched the purple blanket in her tiny little fists was heart wrenching, even for the dour potion's master. Besides, Severus thought to himself, they could use a quiet night to deal with things and explain the new edition to what would unquestionably be an appalled Draco and a grim Potter. It wasn't like they could pretend that Deirdre was theirs by birth – she was three years-old after all, not to mention the lack of physical resemblance.

To put it mildly, Deirdre looked nothing like Severus. If anything, the little girl on the bed looked like an exact duplicate of Hermione but without the frizzy hair or amber eyes. Severus brushed a strand of brown hair back from her face and the little girl wrinkled her nose- her tiny little nose. Severus had always envied noses like that. Somehow this little creature had landed on a safer side of the Snape gene pool.

Severus' hand snapped back at that thought. He'd had a half-sister and he now had a niece. Of course, now, he also had a daughter. It was enough to give a man a headache. He didn't quite know what to do with himself. He sat down on the edge of the bed in confusion and turned to catch his wife's gaze.

Hermione met his eye for a long moment before, without warning, she turned and left the room in a swirl of robes, her one hand over her mouth to try and cover the sound of her crying. Severus knew he should follow her. She wasn't ready for this. She wasn't ready to be a parent and she certainly didn't want to start with a three year old. She didn't want to deal with the knowledge that they were going to have to ask this broken little girl to fight in their war either. Severus remembered well when he'd first connected the over-heard prophecy to Potter, when he'd realized they'd have to ask a child, Lily's child, to fight Voldemort. Now they were going to be asking not only one child, but three. Severus had never liked fate or the universe, but this seemed a little harsh a revenge for his mere dislike. His sister and his wife, his father and his niece…his family, all at risk all at the same time.

He flicked his wand and his new daughter vanished only to reappear under the covers, her purple blanket tucked in next to her with a worn corner cuddled next to her cheek. Severus dimmed the lights and set a charm to tell him when she awoke and then he too turned and left the room, his robes billowing after him.

He found Hermione in the sitting room, her arithmancy notes spread out in front of her on the floor. She'd filled in the last of the equations and as he entered she waved her wand and the numbers and symbols flew up and off the paper to float eerily in the air around them.

Hermione stood up and used her wand to point at a glowing strand of equation that floated a few inches over Crookshanks head. "This is Deirdre's line. From what I can see, she and your father are somehow crucial in the outcome of the final battle, but not necessarily from actually being there. I think…" Hermione's eyes saddened and she walked forward to place a hand tenderly on her husband's arm. "I think what Dumbledore said about your mother might be true. I think, according to this, she is in line with Voldemort and has been for some time. Your days as a spy are over, but your father's are just beginning."

* * *

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­

Hermione finished telling the boys about her summer, and the past few hours, ending with a heavy sigh. Draco and Remus sat down hard on the couch in Snape's room, matching looks of disbelief etched onto their faces. For his part, Harry's eyes hardened. "That bloody bastard. He deserves to burn in hell."

"Thank you, Harry. I've already taken care of that. Soren is very very dead and unless you plan on picking up necromancy just to kill him again, please forget about him entirely." Hermione huffed. "Now we have a bigger problem. What exactly are Severus and I going to do with a three year old?"

At that moment, Ron pushed away from the wall he'd been leaning against to grab her up in a tight hug, twirling her around before setting her back down on the floor. "Congratulations 'Mione! This is wonderful!"

"Wonderful!" Hermione stared at him with wide eyes. "Ron, I realize we had a rough 6th year and we haven't really talked over the summer, but when did you LOOSE YOUR MIND!"

Ron shrugged, his grin never slipping. "Don't you get it? You've got a daughter. The blood adoption sort of trumps everything else. You've got an honest to god daughter. Better yet, she's got a legitimate magical right to both you and Snape's Houses. You can't have children, but she's already part of both bloodlines. It's perfect. You couldn't have asked for a better solution."

Hermione shoved him away before she too collapsed onto the sofa next to Remus. "Ronald, I…you are far too optimistic."

"True." Ron grinned and plopped down onto the floor facing the sofa. "That's what a summer working with the twins will get you. Still, though. This is a good thing. Deirdre needs a family and so do you two sour pusses whether you'll admit it or not. Plus, we now have a way to spy on You-Know-Who that's virtually foul proof. I mean, NO ONE would expect Snape's father's been faking it for _decades_. It's blood brilliant!"

"Only you, Weasley, would see this situation as brilliant." Severus muttered darkly before purring himself a fire whisky and taking up the only empty chair.

Ron looked back and forth between all the dour faces in the room and his brow furrowed. "Okay, look- all of you. I don't care what can go wrong. I don't care how upsetting you find this." He stood up and faced the room, his eyes dancing in anger. "There's a little girl in the other room who needs support and people that care about her. What are you going to do when she wakes up and asks for her mother? I don't care how upset you are that you didn't have a choice in this. When she wakes up you are going to act like you wanted her more than anything in the world. You are going to _treasure _her. So help me Merlin, I may not have spent the summer dabbling in Dark Arts like the rest of you, but I swear I'll make your lives a living hell if you upset that poor little girl."

Hermione started to say something but Harry cut her off. "Ron's right, Hermione. Take it from a reliable source, being raised by uncaring louts isn't the best option."

Hermione stood up, her hair flying around her head in aggravation. "What kind of people do you take Severus and I for? That's his _niece_ in there." She pointed over her shoulder. "I don't care about blood adoptions and all that, she's lost everything. I know that. I would NEVER purposefully make her feel unwelcome. But that doesn't change the reality. Severus teaches and I have classes along with the work BOTH of us have been doing for the Order. Who's going to look after her when we're busy, or in classes, or during the full moon? There are practical considerations."

Ron squared his shoulders. "I'll do it. I'll take her when you transform and after classes. We both know I never do my homework anyway."

Draco cleared his throat and the room turned to look at him. "Ah, no. I'm not volunteering, but I do have an idea about what to do during the day." Hermione snorted and Draco rolled his eyes. "I know, Hermione, it's a rarity that I have something even resembling an idea, but at least listen to it." Draco paused till Hermione waved a hand at him to continue. "Have you talked to your grandparents about this? I mean, they are living in the castle now and as muggles there's not really a lot to keep them occupied."

Silence greeted that observation before a slow dark chuckle cracked the spell. "Draco, you surprise me. Yes, we had forgotten the Grangers hadn't we?" Severus smirked as he stood up. "Between Weasley and Hermione's grandparents we should be able to work something up."

* * *

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­

Severus woke up with a start. Something was wrong, his wards… Reality settled down around him with a clang. Deirdre was waking up.

Severus gently woke Hermione and together they pulled robes on and quietly made their way into the little girl's room. Her small form was twisting in the sheets, her tiny face scrunched up in distress. Hermione turned to look at him and they both shrugged at the other not knowing what to do.

"You wake her up." A voice said softly from behind them and they whirled to find Ron standing in the doorway still in school robes. "I slept on the couch." He said quietly. "I figured you might need a little help." He walked past them and sat down on the edge of the bed. "May I?"

Hermione nodded and Ron reached a hand out and gently shook the little girl's shoulder. She jerked and her eyes flew open relieving startling blue eyes like the Headmaster. She made a frightened sound and started to pull away when Ron shook his head and made a soft sound in the back of his throat, his hand rubbing her shoulder. "It's alright Deirdre. My name is Ron and I'm going to be helping look after you for a while."

Deirdre turned her large frightened eyes to him and he smiled. "It's okay. You're at Hogwarts. Did your mum ever tell you about Hogwarts?"

She shook her head no and her lip trembled. "Mama?"

Ron kept his smile in place and continued rubbing her shoulder. "Your mum had to leave, but your grandpas brought you here." Ron shifted so the little girl could see Severus and Hermione. "The tall one back there, his name is Severus. He's your uncle. The girl with the pretty hair, that's Hermione his wife. You're going to live with them for a while and I'm going to come visit." Ron leaned forward as if to whisper in her ear but kept his voice loud enough so the other two could hear him. "They've never spent any time with a little girl before so I said I'd help them out. I've got lots of cousins so I'm an expert." He nodded solemnly and when the girl relaxed a bit he reached a hand out and tickled her. "See?"

Deirdre laughed and then hiccupped. She pulled away from Ron and threw the covers off and reached again for her purple blanket and clutched it to her. "Grandpa Auto visit with grandpa Aber. No mama." She frowned. "I very hungry."

Her lip trembled again and Ron reached out a hand to again rub her small back. "Well, I tell you what. How about we get you dressed and let Hermione and Severus clean up and we'll all go get a great big breakfast."

Deirdre's eyes went even larger. "Syrup?" she took a big breath, "and sausage?"

Ron chuckled. "Once the house-elves see you, little one, I'm sure there will be syrup, and pancakes, and sausages, and muffins…" She giggled as Ron continued to list foods as he swung her up off the bed and twirled her around. "They'll be so much food, Deirdre, you won't be able to see the people on the other side of the table. I'll take you to the kitchens and I'll introduce you to Dobby. He's a very good friend. Just about your height too."

Ron stopped twirling the giggling child and looked at his two gob smacked associates. "You two go get dressed. I'll meet you in the kitchens with this little one." With that he hustled them out the door and back into their bedroom. The last thing Severus heard was Ron's cheery voice asking if Deirdre wanted to wear pink, purple, or orange today.

Hermione sat down heavily on the bed and looked at him in shock. "Was that Ronald Weasley?"

Severus sat down next to her and rubbed a hand through his hair. "I believe either I've died and gone to hell or we've not only just adopted my niece but appropriated a Weasley nanny at the same time."

"He's good with her." Hermione said quietly. "I couldn't have done that. He kept her from getting scared and he deflected her away from her mum. He just…made her laugh. Merlin, Severus, you do realize I don't have a motherly bone in my body and Ronald Weasley just out stripped me by a mile?"

Severus nodded slowly. "I'm…in awe actually." He paused. "I hope Molly and Arthur don't mind but I think I'm going to keep their younger son hostage as forced labor for the next eleven or so years."

They heard Ron call out he was leaving from the other side of their bedroom door and it was only then that the two finally got up and moving.

Breakfast went well with Ron giving Deirdre enough sugar to cause an elephant to keel over. Hermione left Severus with Ron in the kitchens where Deirdre was busy tugging on Dobby's ears and laughing, much to the elf's delight, and went to speak to her grandparents.

She found them in their quarters taking a quiet breakfast. She'd enjoyed having them so close all summer and for the first time since getting her Hogwarts letter she'd been able to really bond with them. She told them about Deirdre and her grandmother had started crying. By the end of the visit both Grangers had agreed to watch the girl during the day. They were ecstatic to be great-grandparents but saddened by the circumstances. They didn't seem to mind that their adopted granddaughter was foisting her adopted daughter off on them. In fact, her grandmother promised she'd spend the evening with Severus, Ron, and Hermione and help them get use to having a little girl around. She also gave Hermione a list of things to do to their rooms to start child proofing. Lord knew the potion master and the arithmancer weren't exactly known for their child safe décor.

By the end of the week classes had settled in and the Snapes were starting to find their feet. Ron had given up and moved to the dungeons, a room being magically added next to Deirdre's. Between the Grangers and Ron there wasn't a lot of child rearing left to be done by Severus and Hermione. For which both were quite grateful, Hermione more so than Severus. Deirdre had taken an instant likely to Severus and could be seen following him through the castle whenever she managed to escape her caregivers.

Hermione, on the other hand, seemed to frighten the girl. Ron thought it was because Hermione had a few characteristics that resembled Soren and that probably frightened the child where as Severus probably reminded her of her mother. Hermione thought it was because the girl could sense fear, and like a dog was waiting for a chance to attack.

Albus was a frequent visitor and Deirdre seemed to instantly bond with the elderly wizard. She would curl up in his lap with her purple blanket and fall asleep tucked into his beard. The headmaster would cuddle the child and gaze down at her with obvious affection.

She was also an instant favorite of the house-elves, many of whom had spent their early lives as child caregivers to pureblood families. When their charges had grown they were dismissed and found sanctuary at Hogwarts where the children were older but still in need of care. They all relished the chance to care for such a young one again. Winky in particular seemed to benefit from time with the girl. Dobby and the female elf could be found playing with her at least once a day in the kitchens while the Grangers watched from the sidelines.

Harry was finding the adjustment back into classes more difficult. Without Ron and Hermione in the tower he was effectively alone. While he could talk to Draco publically he didn't enjoy spending much time around the other Slytherins. With their cover in place, he couldn't go anywhere near Hermione or Ron. He'd catch glimpses of Ron playing in the halls with Deirdre but only late at night could he risk visiting, when the child was in bed. They could risk her making a move towards him in public and betraying their secret. He was devastatingly lonely.

Harry couldn't stop thinking about Lucius and what they'd done over the summer. Hedwig was getting her fair amount of work for the first time, carrying letters back and forth. They had to be careful what they said, but they wrote nearly every day. Harry wasn't sure he would make it until Christmas break without seeing his lover. It wasn't just that he was alone now in the tower. There was a real ache that grew stronger every moment they were apart and Harry didn't know if he could bare it for much longer. Lucius had hinted he was feeling the same thing. It was magic, they assumed, that caused this. It was as if they were now linked by a cord that was stretched as far as it could go, vibrating with tension and humming with aggravation at the distance.

A month into classes Severus noticed the growing paleness to the Boy-Who-Lived. He eyes were sunken in and his energy seemed to be dwindling almost as you looked at him. It was after the morning mail on the first Hogsmeade weekend that it all snapped into place for the potion master.

The majority of students had gone in latest letter in tow. As he sat on the couch reading it, and watching Deirdre play with her blocks in the corner spelled so she couldn't see him, Harry's aura shifted. Severus could sense an odd lurch to the magic in the room when there was a knock on the door.

Dobby stopped playing with Deirdre and answered it only to squeal in fright. Lucius Malfoy was on the other side. Dobby glared hard at the wizard before he jumped out of the way just in time to avoid being run over by an ecstatic Potter. Under the spell, Deirdre sat obvious in her corner coloring.

Harry lunched himself at Lucius and the moment they touched Severus could see the magical link between them flare and settle. Harry's aura brightened and so did Lucius'. In that instant Severus realized that Lucius hadn't just bedded the boy, he'd bonded him.

As a lonely youth Severus had spent more hours than he cared to reading in the library. He'd come across an old worn tome shoved behind a bookcase in the back one lazy day in his third year. It was a book of legends, myths of great power and intrigue. They had all talked about bonds.

It was common knowledge in the wizarding world that sex would link two people. The bonding ceremony Dumbledore had officiated for Severus and Hermione was also not unheard of. But the bond Severus could sense in Lucius and Harry was different. The only thing he could compare it too was the legends in that old book.

Dumbledore had linked Severus' magic to Hermione's. It was an outside development. This, this was done by Lucius and Harry's magic without an outside catalyst. It was spontaneous. It was complete.

You could feel it in the air around them. It tingled with magic whenever Harry's hand would brush Lucius'. When the older wizard had pulled the young Gryffindor into the study to be away from watchful eyes of everyone collected in the Snape living room (Remus, Hermione, Draco, Ron, Harry, and Severus had all been spread out across the space trying to work on various projects and forget the fact that the rest of the castle was out getting chocolate.), Severus knew what they were doing by the snap and hum around them.

Dobby's already large eyes grew enormous as the magic picked up and he looked at Severus in question. Severus could only shrug at him. This, this was beyond him.

The match shouldn't work, but yet it did and as Albus burst into the room to find out where the magic was coming from, the entire castle could feel it, all Severus could do was point at the room where the two illicit lovers were defiling his desk and vow to burn it when they left.

Lucius spent the evening with them, and when Deirdre was safely in her room and Ronald had come out from reading her a bedtime story, Severus screamed at the two wizards until Harry and Lucius had shrunk back into the couch in fear and Hermione didn't know whether to join Draco in laughing or if she should look as appalled at their behavior as Ron.

Albus decided it for them by closing his eyes and letting out a heavy sigh.

"I should have anticipated this." His voice was low and without its usual mirth. "Harry, my boy, you do realize what this means do you not?"

Harry looked at them all curiously and then back at Lucius who could only shake his head. "No, sir, I don't."

"Potter," Severus began, "I assume Lucius explained that sexual encounters for wizards and witches carry special meaning." Both lovers nodded. "What you two have managed to do is to go and bond yourselves. You've linked your magics. Since it was done without outside aid it cannot be undone. You both are now forever magically bonded."

Lucius looked startled but it was Harry that spoke first. "Is that why it hurt to be apart?"

Albus nodded gravely. "It would explain your weakness these last few weeks, Harry, as well as your unusually strong attachment to Lucius after only a relatively short amount of time. It would also explain the strange surge of magic felt by many witches and wizards over the summer. The strength of both your magics combined caused a shock wave through the lay lines."

"I do not understand." Lucius cut in. "I thought all bondings had to be created by an officiating wizard. I am already married. It should not have been possible to spontaneously bond Harry."

Hermione and Draco just looked at each other, Hermione keeping a hand on Ron's arm to keep him from lunching at the older Slytherin. "Sir," Hermione began turning to look at Lucius. "If what I've read about this is true than the bond with Harry would override the lesser bond with your wife. Magically speaking, your bond with Narcissa would be an unnatural contrivance where your bond with Harry would be a naturally according phenomena."

Severus wondered if she'd read the same book. It was confirmed when she started in on the same legend he'd read all those years ago.

"If I remember it correctly," She began, "There was once a witch born near Pinzance. Her magic was very great but her family was virtually unknown. This was before Hogwarts, back when witches and wizards were trained only by their families. Her family did not have the ability to train her properly so with immense sorrow they gave her over to a great Lord. They knew that this Lord would likely abuse her, but they could sense her great power and knew that in time she would overcome him and escape with the knowledge that only he could give her. So they packed up the child and sent her to her new master."

Severus nodded and picked up the story. "When the girl arrived at the castle she found not the ogre that her parents had prepared her to find, but instead an older mage of similarly great power. He had only planned on teaching the girl. His intentions were pure."

Draco snorted. "Don't tell me. The dope falls in love with her."

Hermione smiled softly. "That's the beautiful part of the tale. They both fall in love. It's an illogical match. According to legend he's about Dumbledore's age and she's probably only 12 or 13. His family is highly placed and he's already got grown children and a wife. He can't divorce, it didn't exist back then, and he would never have harmed his wife even though he'd long since grown out of love with her. So, he tries not to show his feelings to his young apprentice believing she deserves better than an illicit affair with an old man." Hermione smirked. "Only she's a wild little thing. She realizes what he's up to and convinces him she's quite happy with an illicit affair, under the condition that she be protected from harm and hunger for life and if they should have a child that their child inherit in equal part with his other children."

Severus interrupted to continue the story. "So the wizard took her to bed. They had delayed their joining for some time, debating the truth of the others convictions. When they finally consummated their affections there was great joy. Their joy washed over the lands and made all those with the gifts of Merlin smile in the knowledge of their joining."

Lucius snickered. "Severus, you really need to get out more. You have the damn thing memorized?"

Hermione crossed her arms and came to her husband's defense. "It's a very beautiful legend, Lucius. You should really try and get a little more culture. Next to the Deathly Hollows the tale of White Beard and the Maiden is one of the most artfully crafted of all wizarding legends."

"And the point being," Albus cut in glaring at the arguing younger folk, "is that this tale describes precisely what has occurred here. What Severus and Hermione have not mentioned is how the tale ends."

Severus' voice was wispy when he began speaking. "And a great darkness, born from White Beard but not of the Maiden, fell across the islands and they trembled with the weight of their sorrows until the very forests groaned and the fields began to whither. The Maiden and her lover felt the darkness upon them and they wept for the loss of their joy to the growing evil that pressed in upon them. The Children of Merlin, the followers of the old ways, came to them and pleaded that they use their gifts against the darkness they had angered with love. White Beard knew the cost of battle and delayed until his maiden pledged their powers for him. Battle was wrought and the Maiden fell to the darkness and White Beard smote the evil in his fury until fire reigned and the earth itself opened to swallow the darkness whole."

"Then quiet descended on the field of battle and all watched as White Beard fell to his sword, his grief a blanket on the land and winter came fast to all the islands." Hermione finished softly.

Harry looked around the room and sighed. "Several problems with all this. First, he's blond." Harry pointed at Lucius. "Second, I'm not a Maiden. And how the hell is she still a maiden after they 'found their joy' and all that? And third, I have no intentions of dying and having Lucius here take on Voldie than off himself. Clear?"

"No one is suggesting anything of the sort, Harry." Albus replied, eyes twinkling. "What we are remarking on is the unusual similarities to the story. We too are in a time of great darkness. Such a spontaneous and deep bond as you two are evidencing is rare. Perhaps only a handful have taken place in recorded history."

"For the record," Draco began in his slow drawl. "Can you two keep your joy finding a little further away from me?"

Severus snorted. "Perhaps, as loath as I am to suggest this, you two should not delay your encounters quite as long either. I believe the magical discharge that has brought us all to this room was caused by your lengthy separation. I also noticed that there appeared to be a detrimental effect on Potter's health the longer you were apart."

Harry nodded. "Lucius and I had discussed that." He blushed. "I'd really rather everyone didn't get a jolt every time…"

Ron took a chance and spoke up. "What exactly did that jolt do though? I mean, I feel incredibly well rested at the moment, like I've just gotten in a good nap. Only thing is I've been up since 6 this morning with the little one. I should be dead on my feet."

Remus nodded. "He's right. I think there's some sort of transference taking place. I bet if we went and found some loyal Deatheaters they wouldn't have experienced the same sort of sensation we just did. If anything they probably felt pain. And it has to be tied to their separation since Draco and I didn't experience this more than once at the Manor."

Harry leaned against the wall and quirked an eyebrow. "In that case, if Lucius and stay apart and create enough of a build up could we jolt the bastard to death?"

"Not without risking exploding the castle." Lucius added but couldn't help the smirk that settled onto his face. "Although I'd be willing to try shagging the Dark Lord into submission."

"No." Albus spoke firmly. "The amount of separation that would be needed to build up that large of a charge would likely kill you. Harry has been looking more and more haggard this last week. You looked like death walking yourself when you arrived, Lucius. This is a gift for the two of you, not a weapon."

"But isn't that what the legend tells us?" Hermione started in as she fumbled for her notes. "Look, we know we've all got to be at the final battle. We know that Deirdre's important and that there's some kind of a link to the heirs from all four Houses as well as to the founding families. What if this bond is important too? What if it's this bond that means Harry can survive the prophecy?" Hermione gave a triumphant shout and pulled her notes out from under Ron's rear. "Here we go. Look here. Deirdre was the last piece we needed to the puzzle, but we still don't have a clear picture. If we add in the bond…" She waved her wand over the pages and then transferred the runes to mid air. She snorted in satisfaction. "We've got another pattern immerging. This one makes a little more sense. See here," She pointed at a glowing strand. "If Harry and Lucius are bonded it doubles both their strengths. It gives us the advantage."

Albus studied the calculations grimly. "Yes, but we are still missing the other heirs. We must find names for them to complete the picture your calculations are forming."

"So we find them." Hermione nodded in satisfaction and banished her arithmancy back to the pages. "We know the Longbottoms are heir to the Hufflepuff line. According to Voldemort the missing Ravenclaw heir is also in Gryffindor. If we find the heir, and if we combine three against one, the power, even divided as it is for Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, should be enough."

"But who is the missing heir?" Ron asked. "I mean, it could be anyone."

Hermione shook her head. "It gets a little more complicated yet. We need not only the heirs to the founders themselves but the founding families. All four houses were comprised of three founding families. Slytherin was founded with the Snape, Penwrath, and Malfoy families. Gryffindor was comprised of the McGonagall, Potter, and Weasley lines. Prof. McGonagall can cover for her house. I can speak for Penwrath, Severus for the Snapes, and Draco or Lucius can take care of the Malfoys and Ron can handle representing the Weasleys."

"Which leaves us needing to find the heirs for Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw." Lucius stated calmly.

Severus shook his head. "We know the Hufflepuff founding heir already and the families. It was recorded in the school charter. Dumbledore, Bones, and Spinnet."

"All members of the DA." Harry nodded in satisfaction and grinned. "In one way or the other."

"So do we know Ravenclaw?" Ron asked and scratched his chin.

"There in lies the problem." Severus frowned. "We know the founding heirs and families for all the houses except Ravenclaw. Rowena was very secretive. Other than the Gray Lady, her daughter, there is no record of her having any family. Since her daughter died childless it has been postulated that the line ended with her."

"It didn't." Hermione spoke confidently. "The magical heirship would have passed to a cousin or another relative. And Voldemort spoke of knowing the Ravenclaw heir, so there has to be one." She paused for a moment and took a deep breath. "And the founding families had to have been recorded."

"They were." Draco spoke up and stepped into the center of the room. "Their names were warded so only those who carried the bloodline could reveal them." He smirked. "Black, Abbott, and Hagrid."

"You have got to be kidding me." Harry shook his head in disbelief. "And you know this since your mother's a Black?"

Lucius moved to his son's side. "It's true. I realize this must come as quite a shock, who would take Rubius Hagrid as the heir to a founding Ravenclaw family?"

Ron waved his hand in dismissal. "I can except that since evidently the headmaster is a Hufflepuff. What I don't get is why it's all threes."

Hermione pulled herself up into what the boys knew from long experience was lecture mode and they groaned. She shot them a glare before settling in to explain. "Three is a very magically significant number. Three families for each House. Three times four is twelve. Add the one and the two and you get…"

"Three." Harry piped up and received a smile for his efforts.

"Exactly. Three points to Gryffindor." She smirked as Draco glared at her. "The number three is a complete number, the ultimate number. It signifies wholeness and talent. There are four houses because four represents solidity and stability."

"Yeah, but when you add all the heirs together you get 18. How's that work?" Ron asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Add the numbers, Ron. You get 9. Nine is three times three. It also stands for ultimate achievement."

Dumbledore nodded. "Numerically it's perfect for a school. It represents complete talent solidified into the ultimate achievement."

"I hate arithmancy." Harry and Ron groaned at the same time.

"But it's how I know Deirdre is important." Hermione cut in. "Her arithmetic number is 9."

"Let's review, shall we?" Remus finally spoke up and the room turned to him. "We have confirmed on our side both the heir of Gryffindor and the heir of Hufflepuff. We also have the entire founding families for all four houses. That leaves only the heir of Slytherin against us and the Ravenclaw heir in the winds."

"Not necessarily." Harry spoke in a quiet voice. "Voldemort claims to be Slytherin's heir but do we know that for sure? I mean, if there are multiple lines for Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, than wouldn't it stand to reason Slytherin's heirs might have dispersed too? I mean it has been centuries. And there's no rule that says Sal's offspring have to be evil."

Hermione grinned. "You're right. We shouldn't just take his word for it."

The headmaster nodded grimly. "So we have a mystery on our hands."

13


	8. Chapter 7: Rallentando

Complications of Birth

Author: Saavik

Disclaimer: I am not making money off of this. I'd like to, but men in black suits would come and take me away.

_Summary: Sequel to Contemplations of Birth and the WIP Convergence of Birth. Now in seventh year, our intrepid cast faces the ultimate test of their loyalty, strength, and sanity. A/U: Story started before Books 6 & 7, so is not compliant._

Pairings: HG/SS, HP/LM, DM/RL, GW/CC, and others

Warnings: See chapter one.

**Chapter 7: ****Rallentando**

A mystery was the least of their problems. The next morning word came. Xenophilius Lovegood had been found murdered outside his home. The Dark Mark was found floating ominously in the night sky by Arthur Weasley on his way home from the Ministry.

Luna took the news as well as could be expected. It was Harry that seemed the hardest hit. Xenophilius had been killed because he dared to write about Harry and Voldemort's return. The fact that he was killed by a quill through the heart pretty much cemented that idea, and Harry's sense of guilt.

Luna quietly and calmly owled the _Quibbler _and promoted one of her father's long time staff to chief editor. The first story they ran was her father's obituary and a letter from Luna. In surprisingly clear prose she told the wizarding world why, how, and by whom her father was killed and announced that she would continue his work till her last dying breath had passed her lips. It was the first time the _Quibbler _had run with a front page story of such a nature. It was not the last. Luna shifted the paper's focus to reporting on Voldemort's movements almost exclusively. If the bastard thought he'd quiet the _Quibbler _ by killing Xeno he'd underestimated Luna Lovegood. The throbbing in Harry's scar told him exactly how unhappy Voldie really was.

Hermione watched Luna carefully over the next few weeks, hoping to be of some help. But the quiet Ravenclaw seemed to carry her grief like she did everything else, inside and shielded behind her misty eyes and glazed expression. The only outward sign of her grief was the black ribbon she used to pull her hair back when she wrote her articles for the paper.

A month after Luna's father was killed Harry awoke with a horrible vision. He'd never be able to get the image out of his mind. Voldemort was shagging Snape's mother. It was the first time Harry had ever been pulled into a vision that didn't involve the bastard torturing someone and while he'd never thought he'd say he preferred to witness torture, the fact that he had to spend a good 15 min's staring down at a woman as Voldemort plowed into her…Harry lost his dinner just thinking about it. They'd suspected she was _working _ for Voldemort…not…not…Harry shivered in revolution.

But that wasn't the worst of the vision. They lost their spy as well. Autolysis had walked into the bedroom at exactly the wrong time. Without hesitation his wife had sent a powerful curse at him. Acting instinctively, Auto had deflected the course and broken his long standing senility cover. He'd barely managed to make it out of the room and off the grounds. If Voldemort hadn't tripped on the bed cloths Snape's father would be dead.

Auto made it to Hogwarts in one piece but now the Order was out both Snape spies. That left only Lucius and Draco to bring back information from the Deatheaters.

Of course Deirdre was overjoyed to have her grandfather with her at Hogwarts and when Aberforth was informed that Auto would be living at Hogwarts permanently he and his pet goat were at the gates within seconds.

Severus was a little more reticent about these developments. Harry's halting retelling of his vision had left him joining Harry in a nausea reduction potion toast. Having never known his father for the man he was, only the act he'd been forced into playing, Severus wasn't sure how to handle the man. The fact that his father was quite often found in the Snape sitting room along with the Grangers and Deirdre only complicated matters. He felt like his home was being invaded. It didn't help that Draco, Lucius, Ron, and Remus also seemed to think his rooms were a common area and treated them as such. Gone was his peace and quiet replaced by rapid Gryffindors. Hermione, of course, seemed obvious to the excitement and would only smile at him softly as he ranted.

Dumbledore's joviality seemed to take a huge hit after both the tragedy of losing Xeno's life and Auto's place gathering information. Even his niece's presence was not enough to lift the melancholy that had stolen over the headmaster. Severus claimed it was only their imaginations but the golden trio swore the lemon drops weren't as sugary and that the pumpkin juice had gone sour.

They were still looking for the Ravenclaw heir and a way to confirm the identity of the other heirs rather than simply taking Voldemort's word for it. Everyone felt quite certain that Harry was the heir of Gryffindor based on his ability to summon the sword, but beyond that it was all based on the word of a known psychopath and liar. It was Remus that finally figured out a way to test their theory.

The wards on Hogwarts were all based on the Founders Stone. A large ugly looking thing, it was located deep in the foundations directly under the headmaster's tower. Each of the founders had spilled life's blood on the stone to set the original wards. Some of their magical signature was still pulsing through the wards surrounding the stone. If they could isolate the original four signatures they should be able to match them to the magical auras of the current heirs, sort of like a wizarding DNA test.

Dumbledore, Severus, and Hermione looked at each other worriedly as Remus explained his theory. Harry couldn't remember what he'd read in Slytherin's Chronicles, the_ oblivate_ was still in place. But they remembered. If Remus was right, and they could trace heirship off the Foundation Stone, then maybe they could also detect the spell Slytherin had placed to undermine the wards. So far the Order had not found a way to protect the school should Voldemort use the Parseltongue incantation that Slytherin had slipped into the original wards to bring down the entire ward web. Happily oblivious to this possibility, Harry could only smile as Remus enthusiastically related his idea.

They needed as many of the founding families as possible to help cut through all the more recent magical additions to the wards. Dumbledore summoned Lucius and Draco under glamours then gathered the available faculty including McGonagall. Hermione called the DA. With so many present no one outside those who already knew could guess that it was the founding family heirs that were needed. One by one everyone present peeled back the auras surrounding the wards, careful to make sure they were eliminating only the family wards rather than anything that might link to the founders themselves. When they were done Dumbledore was able to isolate the four oldest signatures. They glowed on the stone, bright colors against the grey backdrop. The staff, with the exception of Remus and Severus, were dismissed as was the DA minus Neville and Ron. Hermione campaigned to let Luna stay, stating she needed to have some involvement in this after what had just happened. The Headmaster agreed.

Harry stepped forward first and let a single drop of blood fall on the stone. The colors swirled a moment. For a second everything looked to be going according to plan. The red of Godric Gryffindor started towards Harry's signature but then wavered. With a sudden hiss the green of Slytherin shot out and encased the drop of blood.

"ah," Harry's voice was shaky. "Does that mean what I think it means?"

Lucius looked at him in awe. "You're really the heir of Slytherin."

"Now wait a minute." Ron started in while looking at the glamoured Malfoy carefully trying to figure out who he was. "We've been through this once. Harry's not the heir of Slytherin. The whole chamber thing proved that." Harry nodded in agreement.

Hermione shook her head and the remaining members of the DA looked at her in question. "No, Harry. We proved you could speak Parseltongue and so could Voldemort. That doesn't actually prove heirship. Not all Parselmouths are related to Slytherin. The Dark Lord is claiming something that isn't his."

"Then how did I summon the sword?" Harry crossed his arms definitely and glared. "That proves I'm a true Gryffindor doesn't it?"

Dumbledore nodded solemnly. "It proves you are of a founding Gryffindor family, Harry. It does not necessarily prove heirship." Everyone started arguing all at once drowning out whatever else the headmaster might have said.

Luna raised her hand quietly and it took a moment for everyone to stop talking long enough for her to speak. "If Harry is not the heir to Gryffindor, than who is?"

"We need to do a process of elimination." Remus stated calmly. "Let's start with Neville since we've got some previous evidence that he may be a founding heir."

Neville jerked in surprise before stepped forward shakily and let a single drop fall on the stone. As they had expected the yellow tinge of Hufflepuff moved swiftly to devour the drop. Neville looked a little shocked but let Harry pat him on the back in congratulations.

"Alright," Remus looked at the remaining group. "We know there are supposed to be three heirs in Gryffindor currently. Ron, I want you to try. If we don't get a result we may have to test all of Gryffindor one by one."

Ron gulped and moved in slow motion towards the stone. "The Weasleys helped found the school. Won't that interfere?"

Albus smiled at him gently. "No, my boy. It will not. We've already eliminated the Weasley family auras. If your blood attracts any of the remaining magical signatures it will be because you carry something of the line of the founders themselves."

Ron took a deep breath and held out his hand for Severus to prick. The drop fell and everyone held their breath. Nothing.

Ron gave a sigh of relief. "I hate to say it, but with all the inbreeding around here I was worried there might actually be a connection. No offense, Harry. But being your friend makes my family enough of a target. I don't really want to add to it."

"ah, Ron." Harry started sheepishly. "This just means you aren't an heir to one of the founders. It doesn't mean someone else in your family might not be. Heirship is a magical inheritance only partially based on blood. It can skip around, doesn't always, but it can."

Ron suddenly didn't look so relieved.

They tried Luna next, even though she was a Ravenclaw. Her blood also did nothing when it hit the stone.

Hermione stepped forward and Severus gave her finger a small prick. The blue of Rowena's aura rose up to claim the drop even before it hit the stone.

"Mystery solved." Lucius smirked and dropped the glamour. Luna only eyed him critically for a moment before ignoring him. If the headmaster and Harry trusted the man, she wasn't going to question it.

Draco also dropped his glamour and leaned against the far wall casually. "Well, isn't this a surprise. The Dark Lord was right. There are three heirs in Gryffindor. Just not the three he expected."

"Which leaves us with another mystery." Albus stroked his beard in thought. "If young Harry is not the heir to Gryffindor, than who is?"

"Headmaster," Severus began, "I suggest we finish testing those present before we start a comprehensive search process throughout the student body."

They all agreed to that plan and Draco, Lucius, Severus, and then Albus himself were all quickly eliminated. It looked for a moment like Remus might be the lucky winner, but the red glow turned away at the last second.

"Now what?" Ron asked as he leaned tiredly against the stone and glared at the offending red aura that apparently liked to tease people. "We test everyone in the school?"

Hermione scrunched her nose in thought. "You know, we might not have to." Everyone turned to her and she started pacing as she thought it out. "Voldemort believes he is the heir to Slytherin, based on his ability to speak Parseltongue. Just because there hasn't been a lot of Parselmouths doesn't mean they were all Slytherin's heirs. He jumped the gun. But he _believes_ it."

"The fact that he managed to enter the Chamber of Secrets makes him even more sure." Harry added, his mind starting to churn along with Hermione's. "So if he believes it…"

Hermione smiled and stopped pacing, slapping her thigh as the idea took hold. "Than he also believed you were the heir to Gryffindor, hence the three. He had to have some prophecy or other evidence to suggest that the "other" heirs were in Gryffindor and he _assumed_ you were one of them."

Harry smiled widely. "Yeah, and he guessed that Neville was Hufflepuff, he probably knew you were Ravenclaw, and he _thought_ I was Gryffindor. It would never have accorded to him that I was the real heir of Slytherin."

Hermione nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly. So if he wasn't _looking _for Slytherin's heir he might not have counted it as one of the three. If he was simply divining for the _heirs_, minus himself, and they all turned up in the same place, he _assumed_ it was because everyone but the Slytherin heir was in Gryffindor. If our missing heir was anywhere else he'd have been tipped off by getting four hits. But if he was stupid enough to divine for the heirs all at once our singular location would have meant he didn't get a head count. He saved time by only having to divine once, but in doing so he lost accuracy and missed his chance to realize his mistake."

"So our missing heir very well might still be in Gryffindor." Harry nodded his head and grinned ear to ear.

"Oh this is just not fair!" Draco whined and rolled his eyes. "What the hell happened that all the heirs end up in your House?"

"We do not yet know if they have, Mr. Malfoy." The headmaster stated calmly, his eyes back to twinkling. "All we have is a theory. Ronald, please go the common room and bring down all the seventh years please. It is not a Hogsmeade weekend so you should find the majority of them studying since as it is far too cold outside for them to be wandering the grounds. We'll start testing the Gryffindors first by age and then move on to the other Houses." Albus turned to Lucius and Draco. "You two had better take Mr. Potter and go back to Severus' rooms. We'll need a plan on what to leak to Voldemort about this. Word will reach him that we are doing testing on the wards and he will be able to figure out that we are using the founders' auras to trace heirship. We'll need a cover story to keep the truth away from him."

Harry and Lucius quickly left, looking a little too eager to be alone. Draco trailed slowly after them and seemed to be more interested in the chance to do a little light reading than in scheming. He didn't follow them long just in case they didn't make it to somewhere private before they fell on each other like rabbits. They could plot later, after the two horny wizards finished playing hide the wand. Draco was quite content to hide in the library, thank you very much. He did not need to see his father slamming Harry Potter against a wall for purposes other than intimidation.

Albus turned back towards the remaining group as Draco's blond head disappeared out of sight. "Go ahead Ron and collect the 7th years."

Ron nodded and nearly ran out of the ward room and up to the tower. He collected what seventh years he could find and they tested them all. Ron would call each one forward one at a time so that only Remus, Hermione, Severus, and the Headmaster were inside to witness the test. After they were done they were sent on their way. It was collectively agreed that even if they had a positive result they would keep testing the rest of the House so that Voldemort had no idea who might be the missing heir should he catch on to the truth.

No positive results were found in the 7th years.

Hermione had conjured a desk and was sitting in the corner checking names off the school roster when Ron brought the 6th year Gryffindors in. Those that had been in the DA looked a little miffed to be back so soon and wanted to know why they couldn't have done whatever it was when they were down here the first time.

One by one they all tested negative until Colin Creevey was left. Being a muggleborn they didn't hold out much hope. His drop of blood hit the stone and the red aura swirled…and surrounded the drop. A hush fell over those collected.

"I'll be damned." Remus whispered.

"What?" Colin asked, his eyes wide. "What does it mean?"

"It means, Mr. Creevey," Severus stated calmly as he stood up to tower over the boy. "You are not entirely muggleborn. At some point in the past your family was once wizarding. You are the heir of Godric Gryffindor."


	9. Chapter 8: Fermata

Complications of Birth

Author: Saavik

Disclaimer: I am not making money off of this. I'd like to, but men in black suits would come and take me away.

_Summary: Sequel to Contemplations of Birth and the WIP Convergence of Birth. Now in seventh year, our intrepid cast faces the ultimate test of their loyalty, strength, and sanity. A/U: Story started before Books 6 & 7, so is not compliant._

Pairings: HG/SS, HP/LM, DM/RL, GW/CC, and others

Warnings: See chapter one.

* * *

**Chapter 8: Fermata**

**

* * *

  
**

The discovery of the identities to the missing founder's heirs did nothing to improve the collective mood of the Order. Remus had joked that you could tell who belonged to the Order of the Phoenix by measuring the size of their frowns. The only people that seemed to be sporting anything resembling a good mood were the werewolf and his lover. Their happiness only made everyone else's misery reach new heights of depression.

Harry missed Lucius. Lucius missed Harry. Albus was worried about his brother. Aberforth was worried about his goat. Auto was worried about Severus. Severus was worried about Lucius, Albus, Potter, Hermione, Draco, Auto, and the world in general. Hermione thought Crookshanks had a cold. Crookshanks thought Hermione was too stressed…and the house-elves had gotten food poisoning from a bad batch of pudding. The list was endless.

It got so bad that Minerva started checking the castle for dark hexes and Poppy began handing out cheering potions after the evening meal.

Hermione and Severus were still struggling to come to terms with the vast changes to their small family. Auto and Aberforth had publically moved into the castle and taken up residence together – along with Aberforth's goat- and had taken over primary care of Deirdre, much to Hermione's relief. The Daily Prophet had a field day with the story of Auto Snape leaving his wife for another wizard. Poor Aberforth had been forced to close his pub due to all the publicity. Severus had refused to comment and the Prophet had been unable to reach Mrs. Snape either. Auto privately hypothesized that it was because Voldemort wouldn't let her out of bed long enough. Severus hadn't eaten for a week, unable to get the mental image out of his mind.

Severus would never admit it, but he missed Deirdre. It was wonderful having his father around for the first time in his life, but he'd grown accustomed to the little girl and the _life _she'd breathed into the dungeons. It seemed…barren without her. Having Ronald Weasley out of his chambers, however, did mitigate that somewhat. Ron had followed Deirdre to her new home and could still be found in her company most every spare minute. The Grangers were also doting on the tiny Snape/Penwrath/Dumbledore heir. The little girl was fairly blossoming under the attention and her nightmares were starting to disappear. She was getting far more talkative as well, much to Severus' distress.

Two weeks before the winter holidays Severus made his way to his father and Aberforth's quarters. He'd been making a point to stop by and see Deirdre once a day, even though Auto and Aberforth were taking good care of her. She was technically his daughter after the blood adoption and he felt some responsibility towards her. The fact that she always smiled at him and raised her tiny little arms so he could pick her up had nothing to do with his daily visits. Nothing at all.

Severus growled at two students and they leaped out of his way, all the while watching him for a clue as to what exactly was going on his private life. The students were having a field day speculating about who the little girl living in the castle was and how exactly the Snape's had come to adopt her. Their glee at having a new sacrificial lamb for the gods of gossip had done more than Poppy's potions to lift the melancholic air of Hogwarts. Rumors he was going soft after his daughter's arrival had been squashed with a delightfully amusing round of point deductions, for such onerous offenses as walking the halls with unpolished shoes, and the dire crime of forgetting to floss. After a good week the students had concluded that parenthood had done nothing to even out their potion master's temperament. As such, the sight of him hurrying down the hall to his father's room was suitably terrifying and the two students in question counted themselves lucky as they scurried away with only a glare rather than a creatively nauseating detention for loitering with the purpose of spying near what they knew was his father's quarters.

Severus glanced around quickly making sure the hall was now empty before he opened the door. The student body had been hovering outside his father's rooms with growing boldness trying in vain to catch a glimpse of his private life. Ever since his marriage to Hermione and Creevy's discovery that he did not in fact sleep hanging upside down, nor did he force his young Gryffindor bride to sleep strapped inside an Iron Maiden, the students had been itching to find out exactly what he was like after hours. Deirdre's appearance and the publicity surrounding his father had only made it ten times worse. It took increasingly sever punishments to keep their hormone ridden imaginations from casting him in some hopelessly romantic plot where he took on the role of the dashing anti-hero. He wasn't any sort of hero and he had always aspired to the arch-villain spot if truth be told. They did have the best lines and the image made classroom management a breeze.

It would do his hard won reputation as a bitter anti-social vampritic scholastic nightmare no good if a student saw the little girl rush at him calling for her "Ser'er'rus" to play another game with her. She had a liking for tea parties and he saw no harm in occasionally indulging her and her plethora of stuff animals. He did like tea and the house-elves always gave the little sprite the best cookies for the snack plates…

Severus Snape had always hated children. As far as he could tell the feeling was mutual, even when he was one.

But Deirdre didn't mind his sarcasm or his black clothes. It didn't matter to her that his hair was greasy. He was her _"Ser'er'rus"._ For the first time in his life Severus found himself wanting the company of a child.

Deirdre may have moved in with her grandfathers, but it seemed she still wanted her adoptive father's company and Severus wasn't about to disappoint her. So few people looked up to him and the unconditional trust the little girl placed in him wasn't something he was going to forsake.

Deirdre's small feet made a quiet thumping pattern across the floor as she flew into the front room just as Severus closed the door. Her little eyes were bright with glee as she jumped to hang from his teacher's robes and he chuckled at her antics. "How was your day, Deirdre? Did you give Ronald a hard time like I asked?"

Deirdre giggled. "Yes daddy. I made him read to me over and over…"

Severus lost track of what she was saying, her second word freezing him in place. He looked up in shock and caught his father smirking at him.

"Deirdre," Auto spoke softly. "Would you give me a moment alone with your father, please?"

Deirdre frowned and stopped her long explanation of her day's activities. "But he just got here!" Auto raised an eyebrow and the little girl sighed dramatically before letting go of Severus' robes and slowly moving away. "You promise to play with me before you go?" She looked up him with pleading eyes and Severus instantly gave his word. Deirdre backed away slowly and gave a serious look at first one wizard than the other. "I didn't do anything wrong did I, grandfather?"

Severus' heart gave a sharp flutter at that and he dropped to one knee to hug the little girl. "No, precious thing. You did anything but." Deirdre looked a little uncertain but she accepted Severus at his word and went to her room without further complaint.

"Did she…?" Severus asked softly. "Did she say what I think she said?"

Auto smirked. "She's called you that in private for some time, just not to your face. I doubt she realizes what she just said. You are her father now, after all. The blood adoption is final."

Severus swallowed heavily. "She's still my niece…a niece I didn't know I had from a sister I never knew."

Auto placed a hand on his son's arm. "I can't tell you how sorry I am for all this, Severus. I never meant to hurt you. I wanted so much to tell you the truth all those years. But you know the ugly reality of duty better than anyone. I knew your mother was involved in something sinister. To keep you safe I let her have her way in your education, in your life. I gave you to her to keep her from suspecting the truth. I am sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you and that I couldn't protect your sister. And I'm sorry that you have the responsibility for Deirdre now."

Severus shook his head. "You're raising her now, father. You and Aberforth are taking care of her."

"Only temporarily." Auto smiled softly. "Son, I took her so you could _miss_ her, you foolish foolish man. Anyone with eyes could tell you took to her immediately. I just needed you to realize it." His father smirked at him and patted a stunned Severus on the back. "I knew you'd come around, Severus. That little girl loves you unconditionally. Take her home."

Auto handed Severus an already packed bag and called for Deirdre to come out, that she was going home with her daddy. The little girl bounced into the room, jumping in place, and her tiny hand grabbed onto Severus' much larger one and without any conscious thought Severus walked his daughter back to his rooms, holding her hand the entire way. He never even noticed the students staring in shock as they passed.

Hermione was in the front room, working on some project, when they arrived. She raised an eyebrow at the pair and then shook her head. "I see their plan worked."

"Worked?" Severus asked, still stunned. "What worked?"

Hermione sighed and stood up. She walked over to Deirdre and knelt down to her level. "You, little girl, are going to drive your father insane. You've made all that Slytherin logic fly right out of his head with your childish wiles. At this rate you'll have him dressing in Dumbledore's robes and eating candy in public before the week is out."

Deirdre giggled and held her arms out to Hermione. With some trepidation Hermione picked her up. She turned to Severus and smiled gently at her glowering husband. "Your father was concerned that we weren't bonding with Deirdre so he suggested that she move out for a while hoping we'd start to miss her. You seem to have fallen quite nicely into his trap. It only took you a couple of weeks."

Severus glared and crossed his arms which only made Deirdre giggle harder. "I suppose you were immune?"

Hermione sighed and set Deirdre back down. "I did figure out their plan, which evidently escaped your notice, oh wise Slytherin." Hermione turned to address her daughter. "Take your bags into your room please. I need to talk to your father alone."

Deirdre happily picked up her bag and did as she was told. She was back in her pretty room with all the purple flowers and that was all she really wanted. She'd get daddy to play later, when Her'my'o'nee was doing all that boring reading she always did.

Hermione gave another sigh as the little girl accidently slammed the door to her room causing a book to fall from the shelf next to it and land pages down on the floor. Hermione bent to pick the book up, smoothing the pages and replacing it on the shelf with a long suffering grimace.

"Severus, I'm not cut out to be a mother. I know, you don't think yourself much of a father, but you are. I'm just…not ready. I may never be. I know Deirdre needs us. I even like her. But I just can't be all that motherly. It doesn't help that she remembers her real mother. She doesn't have that many good memories of Soren so it was easy for her to accept you as her father. I'm not at all like her mother and she'd rather keep the good warm memories she has of her. I can't blame her for that and I don't want to replace your sister. Deirdre belongs here with us, but I'm afraid that I'll never be more than a somewhat distant aunt to her. I just…don't feel comfortable with her."

Severus nodded. "Do you want me to take her back to my father?" He tried not to let his discomfort at the thought into his voice but Hermione's flinch made it obvious he'd failed.

Hermione turned and sighed as she started to pick up the papers she'd had spread out all over the front room before Deirdre got the chance to get them out of order. Past experience told her that the little girl couldn't resist mangling loose papers if given the chance. "No, no I don't. Auto and I agreed that Deirdre needs to be here, with you. I can share, Severus. I'm a big girl. I just don't know how to be a mother. It may seem cold and distant to you, but I just don't have a motherly bone in my body. It's not natural for me. I have to remember she can't reach things, that she hasn't learned to read yet, that she can't understand half the words I use." Hermione sat the stack of papers down on a tall shelf. "Deirdre gets it. She's fine with my presence in her life just as I am. It's not odd to her that her 'mother' would be so…unmotherly. Children have a remarkable tendency to adapt. So she calls you her father and me Hermione. I'm not at all upset by it and it doesn't appear to be doing her any harm. I just want to make sure your all right with my not attempting to be what I'm not. I'm afraid it will leave you as the primary care giver."

Severus reached out and pulled Hermione to him, burying his nose in her copious brown hair. "I love you, child. I always will. I don't expect you to be anything other than what you are. If you are happy with this arrangement than I am content as well." He pulled back and cupped the side of her face gently. "You are an amazing creature and I am privileged to have you – motherly instincts or not."

Hermione sniffled and tried to stop a little tear from escaping but Severus caught sight of it and gently brushed it away with his thumb before he leaned down to kiss her. The stress of the last few months had put a significant strain on their relationship. They hadn't had a spare moment for one another in ages. The full moon and the transformations were another complication and Severus knew how frazzled Hermione really was. Adding Deirdre to the mix could not have been easy for her.

Hermione moaned as the kiss deepened and laced her fingers into Severus' hair, pulling him even closer. For a moment she forgot their adoptive daughter, until the little girl's giggle brought the world crashing back down on the couple.

Hermione broke the kiss and leaned her head against Severus' chest and growled. "Can I change my mind?" Severus only chuckled and pulled her closer with one arm while grabbing Deirdre with the other. It was the first family hug they'd shared and Deirdre didn't seem to mind at all that Hermione didn't think herself the motherly type.

* * *

The next morning at breakfast no one dared ask the glaring potion master what had transpired to cause Deirdre to move back in or to comment on how she'd been seen holding hands with him in the hall. He kept his glare going full force throughout the entire meal while the students snickered behind their hands. Poppy was ecstatic that the gloomy mood seemed to be lifting and Severus vowed to put a laxative in her coffee when she wasn't looking. The good mood of Hogwarts should not depend on him making a public spectacle of himself. Poppy would serve as a lovely distraction. A Hufflepuff third year squeaked and backed away from the high table as Severus grinned. Oh yes, she'd do nicely. Poppy evidently sensed the direction of his thoughts and scooted her chair further away from him. Minerva just rolled her eyes at the pair.

Hermione ignored her husband's antics and quietly confided in her friends that she wasn't thrilled to have the little one back in her hair but that she'd put up with it for Severus.

Ron spent the next few days trying to convince Hermione that she would make a wonderful mother, but she still didn't seem to agree. It became clear after another week that she wasn't about to take much interest in Deirdre and Ron was beside himself trying to come up with a plan to make the two witches bond. Ron was still watching Deirdre during his free periods and sometimes in the evenings when the Snape's were busy and he just couldn't wrap his mind around why Hermione wouldn't want to mother the little girl. Christmas was only days away and Hermione didn't seem to think it was all that important that she spend time with Deirdre. Instead, she was spending nearly every waking moment with the damn arithmancy equations she'd been working on for months along with revision for the NEWTS.

Auto and Aberforth just shrugged at her behavior. Auto was married to a cold woman and as far as he was concerned Hermione was a supernova in comparison. If she didn't want to play dolls for hours it was her business and if she raised her eyebrow disdainfully at mock tea parties it wasn't a crime. After all, little Deirdre still had Hermione reading a bedtime story every night, even if it was from chapter books and not the picture books Deirdre liked, and she had Severus doting on her in the mornings, and both sets of grandparents taking her about the castle and entertaining her during the day. Dumbledore even made it a point to visit twice a week and spoil her dinner with copious amounts of candy. She was hardly neglected. And Hermione had done nothing to be a bad mother, only a slightly indifferent one. By his estimation that made her twenty times a better mother than Severus had ever known and look how well he turned out. Ron was quite adamant that _that_ proved his point.

Ron thought about asking his mother for advice but Harry talked him out of it. Molly Weasley was certainly a hands on mother, the only kind Ron had any experience with, but Harry assured him Hermione wasn't all that unusual. The fact that she was treating Deirdre like a younger sister was natural, Harry argued, considering the age difference, or lack thereof, and the fact that Hermione hadn't actually given birth to her. Considering how much their friend hated having her schedule interrupted, her papers moved about, her study time shortened, and the million other inconveniences living with a child entailed, Hermione was actually handling the situation rather brilliantly. Harry's voice had cracked as he admitted how much he would have given to have someone care about him as much as she did Deirdre when he was growing up. Hermione might not be mother of the year, Harry argued, but he'd take her over Petunia Dursleys any day.

The war seemed to fade into the distance as the hodgepodge dungeon family settled into their new routines. Since Auto's departure from Snape Manor there hadn't been a single Death Eater sighting. Dumbledore assumed it was because the other side was considering their position and wondering how much information Auto had been able to glean from them before he was revealed. The fact was, they'd learned nothing. But if the enemy _thought_ they knew something it could only work to their advantage.

The Order was helping the illusion hold by milking the information Lucius was able to glean for all it was worth, acting as if they knew more than they did and showing up wherever they could to annoy the Death Eaters and spoil their plotting. There were no active engagements, but whenever two Death Eaters met, an Order member was lurking about. Lucius reported that the strategy seemed to be working. They'd been ordered to stop all clandestine meetings and the Dark Revels had been called off for the time being. Voldemort was worried and changing strategies, keeping Lucius close but uniformed. Something big was brewing, but so far the only ones with any idea what were the Dark Lord and presumably Snape's mother.

Harry hadn't thought much about the lull, taking what rest he could. He was still acting like a half-dark snarky bastard in public in an attempt to keep Voldemort thinking Lucius had succeeded in luring him to the dark side. It was hard pretending to hate Hermione and Ron. Draco wasn't a bad friend, but all the posturing that went into Slytherin interactions was exhausting for the Gryffindor. He spent most of his time avoiding all company and reading what he could on magical theory. Lucius visited when he could, trying to keep their bond stable. The headmaster even set up a special floo between the Manor and Severus' chambers so they could talk whenever Harry could sneak away. But it was hard being apart and Harry didn't like the implications of it. He wasn't frightened of the bond, and he didn't regret his choice, but it was all rather…daunting. To know that he was forever bound to another wizard, required that wizard in a physical way, his health and happiness dependent on another…it wasn't an easy thing to get use to for someone as independent as Harry. To top it all off, bonding wasn't exactly a common occurrence- it set him apart.

Harry had never liked being different and again the universe had conspired to make him so. It wasn't fair and if he thought about it too much Harry knew he'd go mad. Lucius made him happy. Part of the price of that was the bond. On the upside he knew how Lucius was doing and could tell if the blond was upset or in distress. Lucius could also sense Harry and they'd had to carefully practice reading one another from a distance. One bad test score in History of Magic and Lucius had flooed into Hogwarts thinking Harry was being skinned alive. In hindsight it was amusing how worked up Lucius had been over Harry's distress at something so common as a bad score, but it had proved that the bond could be dangerous if not controlled.

It would have helped if they'd have been able to actually communicate mentally through the darn thing, but that was only possible in close physical proximity and usually only after they'd…been _close_. The longer they were apart the weaker the connection was.

As such, it took some time for Harry to realize exactly why he felt off. At breakfast he thought it was because he hadn't been able to sleep the night before, thinking about too many things he had no way to control. By lunch he knew something was dreadfully wrong but for the life of him he couldn't place what. By their last class of the day, herbology, Harry felt like he'd been playing Quidditch in the rain for a week – every muscle hurt and there was this odd shakiness to his breath, almost like he'd been crying. It wasn't until he'd identified the feeling that Harry put two and two together and realized that there was something wrong with Lucius. That realization made him turn even paler.

"Potter, are you ill?" Zambini asked in a sickeningly sweet voice, mock concern etched into his features.

Harry turned to him and glared, a nasty retort on his lips, when his link to Lucius pulsed suddenly against his magical senses, a clawing sense of evil and danger pushing at Harry's very core. It hit him like the Hogwarts Express at full speed and he gasped aloud, clutching at the herbology table in front of him making Draco and Zambini jump back in surprise. Ron and Hermione made an abortive move towards him, but a quick look from Draco reminded them that they couldn't be seen aiding their "dark" former friend and they kept their distance with difficulty. Draco reached a tentative hand out to Harry's shoulder and drew it back with a hiss as Harry's magic rose to the surface, vainly trying to push back at the clawing darkness as if it was actually in the room rather than filtering through the bond. Draco clutched his burned hand and looked at Harry with wide, frightened eyes, as the Gryffindor fell to his knees.

A golden aura pulsed around Harry and the heat born of loose magic kept Prof. Sprout from reaching him, Draco's burned hand acting as a warning. Harry could dimly hear Draco calling his name over the pounding in his ears, but the panic and desperation Lucius was sending sapped Harry's ability to answer. The darkness was everywhere, he couldn't catch his breath, and the gold of his own magic was making it hard to focus on anything but the raging magics in his mind and core. Harry closed his eyes and concentrated all his energies on Lucius, focusing on any positive memory or emotion he could, directing it all towards his lover and the darkness he felt emanating from the bond. A piercing scream came from nowhere and everywhere, rattling the windows of the green house, and Harry's golden aura flared and then vanished. As the light faded Harry fell forward in a dead faint. Draco made a frantic leap and caught the Gryffindor before he fell face first into a poison leafed vine they'd been pruning. The classroom fell silent, staring at a gaping Draco holding the unconscious Harry.

"Merlin's balls." Zambini whispered under his breath. "Malfoy, what in bloody hell did Potty just do?"

Draco ignored his fellow Slytherin and slowly lowered Harry to the floor. He didn't try to stop Hermione as she rushed forward, a wandless diagnostic spell on her lips. Harry's vital signs flashed in the air and Hermione didn't stop to explain what they meant, instead drawing her wand and performing another set of complicated healing spells. She nodded once towards Ron and together they gently levitated Harry and started back to the castle. Draco caught her eye as she exited the greenhouse and silently agreed to take care of the class. Whatever had just happened couldn't be allowed to be spread by the Hogwarts Rumor Express.

Professor Sprout waved her wand to send a message to the headmaster as she quickly magiced the plants out of the way. Her patronus shot out of the greenhouse and flew towards the headmaster's tower at record speed. She eyed Draco suspiciously, but after glancing towards the quickly disappearing Golden Trio and back at the class she hitched up her robes and took off after the injured Harry leaving the class to Draco. The headmaster trusted the young Malfoy and so had Mrs. Penwrath-Snape. That was enough for Sprout, especially with an injured student to look after.

Draco closed his eyes for a brief moment and gathered his strength. Sprout was an Order member, or she wouldn't have left. Or she wouldn't have left the dirty work for him, his mind added in an angry whisper. Draco opened his eyes and raised his wand. Only Zambini seemed to realize what was about to happen.

His fellow Slytherin gave a resigned sigh. "I hope you're better at this than you are Transfiguration, Draco." Zambini muttered as he closed his eyes and let the spell hit him.

Draco could be thankful that nobody fought him at least. His Obliviate hit the class as a whole and he nodded in resigned satisfaction as everyone froze in place. Zambini's eyes snapped open and Draco planted the new memory behind his classmates' blank stares.

Dumbledore and Severus met Harry, Hermione and Sprout at the gate and a very pale Draco joined them moments later. Draco was out of breath from running to catch up and from the magical effort of doing a mass Obliviate. The new memory he'd planted showed Ron and Harry hexing one another, with Draco and Hermione joining in to defend their respective friends. Sprout had hauled them all off to the Headmaster and dismissed class. It was weak, but it would have to hold. The effort had unnerved Draco and Severus spared a moment to place a comforting hand on his godson's shoulder, his years as a spy telling him without asking what had happened. Draco had never taken well to the Dark Arts and Oblivate wasn't an easy spell for the boy.

Sprout made sure Harry was in Albus' capable hands before she rushed back to her class, throwing a nervous glance at the blond Slytherin as she went. It made her uncomfortable knowing that he had the headmaster's unspoken approval to Oblivate an entire room full of his classmates. She wanted to make sure they were all still whole before they scattered back to their common rooms. Casting a memory charm at that level was advanced magic and something she'd never have left to a student if another choice had been available. She'd have done it herself, of course, but she'd never been particularly good with memory charms….

By silent agreement they took Harry to the dungeon and opened the floo network so Lucius could come through. Dumbledore confirmed Hermione's spells and they assured everyone it was magical exhaustion and shock that had caused Harry's faint. Hermione's quick casting had stabilized Harry's magic enough that he wasn't in danger. The scar on Harry's forehead hadn't become inflamed so Severus knew that it wasn't the Dark Lord causing the boy's distress. It had to be Lucius. Hopefully whatever was wrong wasn't so horrible it would prevent Lucius from getting to the floo. They couldn't very well go after the Lord Malfoy without risking his cover. With Auto and Severus out of the picture they needed whatever intelligence Lucius could provide.

Harry woke slowly and it took several minutes for him to collect himself enough to describe what had happened. "I don't know." Harry croaked out softly. "It was so sudden. I was a little edgy all morning and then…it just hit me." Harry sat up carefully. "Has anyone called the Manor? Is Lucius alright?" Harry eyed the fireplace with concern. "He should be here by now. Something's wrong. Whatever it was started with him."

Albus nodded gravely. "It would seem that Lucius is in some distress. Your collapse would have resonated through your bond. If he was able he would have come immediately. We have to assume that he is being prevented in some fashion."

Harry nearly bolted from the couch and Hermione had to clutch his arm to stop him from going through the floo. "Harry, think for a moment. What does it feel like? Is Lucius in danger or just very upset? A thousand things could be keeping him away. For all you know he's at the Ministry or something."

Draco nodded, his eyes bright. "You can't just pop out at the Manor, Potter. What if Voldie has decided to use it as headquarters again? He can't keep staying with Snape's mum now that we know about it. He used the Manor once, he might have come back. That would have gotten father upset enough to set off the bond and keep him too busy to floo here."

Harry shook his head. "It's worse than that, Draco. I don't know what exactly, but…" Harry eyed his friend with sorrow. "Maybe we should call Remus down here. I think, whatever it is, you might want him here when we find out. I don't think Lucius is physically hurt, but whatever happened it was bad. Very very bad." Harry paused and lowered his eyes. "and Lucius did something…dark. " Harry looked at Severus, his green eyes watering. "I can't tell what it was, professor, but Lucius tried some kind of magic that…rippled, waves of darkness like…like nothing I've ever felt before. That's what made me pass out. I couldn't handle it. It was like…being suffocated by shadows. Living, sentient, shadows. I stopped him from letting them through, but he tried to fight me. He wanted to let them loose."

Albus' eyes narrowed and the elderly wizard's mouth set in a grim line. "Severus, stay here with the children. I'll go get Remus and dismiss classes for the day. Whatever has happened we'll need to be ready to mobilize the Order. I'll see what my contacts at the Ministry may know. Inform me immediately if Lucius manages to make contact."

"Sir," Harry's voice quavered slightly and Hermione held him tightly to keep him from rising from the couch in his weakened state. "Sir, please. You have to help him. I know he's just a spy to you, but please." Harry's eyes watered slightly. "I can't lose him, headmaster. I just can't."

"I know, Harry." Albus patted his shoulder and spared a sympathetic glace at the equally distraught Draco than to his grim potion master. "I know that Lucius means a great deal to all three of you boys. While I may not have a personal connection to him I do not abandon Order members lightly. Even if his role as our spy is compromised I will not desert him if there is any chance of us getting to him in time."

Draco snorted. "How reassuring." His sarcasm curled the words harshly.

Albus sighed. "We are not the Death Eaters, child. When one falls the whole is diminished. When I consented to Hermione's plan last summer I accepted your father into the Order. As such I will protect him with my life. We all will, no matter what foolish things he's just tried to do." Albus looked to Severus who nodded. "Now, there is much to be done. Harry," Albus patted the boy's shoulder again. "Stay here. Do not go after Lucius. If Draco is correct and the Dark Lord has taken over Malfoy Manor once more your arrival could undermine whatever it is Lucius has planned. Tom does not know of your bond yet. It is the one advantage we have. I'll let you know as soon as I have news."

Albus made eye contact with Severus as he exited the room. "Keep them here, Severus. I'll do what I can. You know that."

"I know it may not be enough." Severus said quietly so that the three sitting huddled on the couch could not hear. "If he dies, we'll lose Potter. That kind of bond means that the death of one will likely bring about the other's."

"I know." Albus shivered. "I know."

* * *

The next few hours were the longest of Severus' life. Remus arrived minutes after the headmaster left, his eyes flashing amber in his distress. Draco was in his arms before the door closed and Remus didn't bother with platitudes, simply holding him. When Draco's arms finally slackened, the werewolf drew him away to a corner of the room where the shadows would hide the proud blonde's tears.

Harry watched them from the couch where Hermione was still holding his hand and trying to lend him strength. A coal popped in the fireplace and everyone jumped. Harry's eyes widened for a moment and he stared unblinking at the flames till Severus thought he'd burn his corneas. Eventually Hermione caught his attention by squeezing his shoulder and he blinked, turning to her with a desperate expression. Hermione smiled at him grimly and Harry gave a weak smile back.

Severus couldn't stand to watch anymore and moved to his daughter's room to check and make sure she was still entertained by her doll house. Auto had dropped her off when he'd learned what was happening so he could help Albus coordinate the Order and Severus had charmed the dolls to mimic life to keep Deirdre distracted. She knew something was wrong with the adults and the teens in the front room but the fact that her favorite dolls were walking around re-arranging their furniture kept her distracted. Severus watched her for a moment making sure she was still entranced before he shut her door and warded it.

It took several hours for Lucius to finally stumble through the floo. Harry was up and pacing the room when he arrived. As soon as the flames flared green, Harry was instantly next to the grating ready to catch his lover as he came out. Severus made a move to stop him in case it wasn't Lucius, but before he could get there the blond fell out of the fireplace and into Harry's waiting arms, knocking them both to the ground.

Hermione gasped and Draco muttered a curse. Lucius looked horrible. His hair was a tangled mass and his robes were half undone. He smelled strongly of firewhisky and potions and he was shaking so hard Harry had to steady him on his way to the sofa.

"Harry…" Lucius chocked out. "She's gone. I found her…" Lucius looked over Harry's shoulder at his son. "Draco, I'm so sorry. I tried…I've tried so hard and it wasn't enough. It was never enough."

Draco's back stiffened. "Mother's dead isn't she?"

Lucius nodded and clutched at Harry as another sob racked him. "I tried to bring her back. I tried so hard but I couldn't do it. I couldn't pull her back. The Gate wouldn't open! I begged it to open, I offered the keepers anything, ANYTHING! But they couldn't get it open!"

Severus and Remus exchanged a knowing glance. Lucius had attempted Necromancy, that was what Harry had felt before his magic, that golden light everyone saw, had canceled it out. If Harry hadn't felt Lucius' attempt though the bond, and hadn't instinctively acted, pushed the keepers of the gate back…

Necromancy wasn't to be trifled with and in his grief it was likely Lucius could have done serious damage, perhaps ripped the gate itself allowing Merlin knew what through. If he'd offered _anything_ to the dark creatures that guarded the gate he could have brought hell to earth.

Hermione didn't look all that surprised, Severus noted, and she had to have also figured it out. Severus couldn't tell if his godson or Potter understood what Lucius was confessing to, but it hardly mattered. Lucius had failed, thank Merlin, and Narcissa was still dead rather than a resurrected shade of herself. Potter's luck had held.

Damn golden boy.

Lucius clutched at Harry desperately, sobs wracking the older man's body. "I couldn't sleep. I couldn't stop thinking about things, worrying about this and that. I took a sleeping drought early this morning thinking I'd sleep while you were in classes, maybe visit this evening." Lucius breathed heavily against Harry's shoulder. "I slept through it, Harry. I slept through her coming in and…" Lucius sobbed. "She hung herself. 'Cissa…she…oh Merlin, Harry. She did it right there in our room…"

Draco stiffened and Remus flinched. The Black women had never been known for their subtlety but this seemed especially cruel. Narcissa had been Draco's mother and the current picture of Harry Potter comforting his father had to be nightmarish for Draco.

"I tried everything, Harry. I tried to bring her back. She didn't mean to, she couldn't have meant to. She wasn't in her right mind!" Lucius looked up at Severus pleadingly. "She wasn't sane, Severus. You know that. She didn't mean to do it. She must have been frightened. She used to think they were coming for her, the other Death Eaters. She must have thought…and she couldn't wake me and she…if I hadn't taken the potion!" Lucius shook his head and tried to gain control of his breathing. "I tried but…the healer came and he took her to the Ministry. They took her away, Draco. They wouldn't let me keep her…"

Severus made a quiet exit, taking Deirdre's hand and leading her to her grandparents' rooms so she couldn't hear any more of Lucius' ramblings before heading to Albus' office. He didn't want Deirdre to be around Lucius in his current state, or any state quite frankly, and she'd be more comfortable around Auto and Aber than the mass of people now in his sitting room. Ronald was at Quidditch practice, Harry forcing him to go, and Auto promised to stop the redhead before he walked in on the Lucius/Harry moment that was sure to still be taking place on the Snape sofa later this evening. The Weasley boy wasn't terribly comfortable with the fact that Potter was gay. Seeing him comforting Lucius Malfoy wasn't going to go over well.

Albus was waiting for Severus when the gargoyle deposited him at the door to the office. The aged wizard looked grim as he offered Severus a seat.

"I assume you are here to tell me Narcissa Malfoy has passed." Albus said quietly. "The Ministry has already contacted me. When the healers arrived at the Manor they noticed signs of Dark Arts, possibly necromancy, and the Auror Office wanted to know if I would verify before they pursued charges against Lucius."

"What did you do?" Severus asked, his voice thick. "He didn't succeed or there wouldn't have been a body."

"Necromancy is a rare gift, one we are lucky Lucius does not possess in abundance." Albus sighed. "I am one of only a handful that has ever seen it preformed. As badly as Lucius botched the bargaining spells I'm surprised the auror's were even able to identify the classification of magic preformed, let alone try and guess the actual spells. Luckily for us they couldn't piece it all together and get a clear picture of what he'd attempted, otherwise they might have detected my lie when I told them it wasn't that kind of Dark Arts. I blamed the signs on past exposure to torture at Death Eater meetings and linked it to the Blacks. I passed off the residual Necromancy aura as having to do with previous generations of Malfoys dabbling in the forbidden. Sirius is at the Ministry now swearing that as a child the Black family habitually inflicted Dark curses on each other and that he'd heard rumors Lucius' father had been a necromancer. It was all I could think to do at a moment's notice." Albus took an angry breath. "Of all the insane things to have done, that …_man_ had to attempt to bribe the Gate Keepers with bad Necromantic spells! He could have caused the apocalypse!"

Severus couldn't help but raise his eyebrows in surprise. "You defended and covered for Lucius? Knowing what he'd done?"

"I had no choice." Albus fairly growled as he stood up to pace. "I don't like this, Severus. I don't like delivering Harry to that man. I don't like that we're dependent on Lucius Malfoy for information on Voldemort's movements. I especially do not like the fact that Harry Potter is magically bound to a Dark wizard. If I had allowed the Ministry to arrest and prosecute Lucius they'd have given him the Kiss and that would have quite literary killed Harry. I don't like any of this. But it doesn't matter what I like. Their bond is powerful and I have not been able to find a counter measure. It is the best weapon we have and I could not allow it to be compromised by Lucius' idiotic attachment to a dead woman nor the Ministry's desire to prosecute a crime that has no victim, _because it failed_."

Severus sat back in his chair and contemplated his old friend. "You've been acting as though this thing with Harry and Lucius was all your idea."

"Someone has to be omnipotent, Severus, or wizards get nervous." Albus sighed and sat back down heavily in his chair. "When I defeated Grindewald I accepted that responsibility. If I'd railed against their bond it would have made no difference. All I would have accomplished is to further alienate Harry. He's known so little happiness. His commitment to changing how magic is preformed, to move us towards true light and not the arbitrary standards placed on us, is a good one. He's proved today that it can work. He held the gate closed against the will of the Gate Keepers. They would have answered Lucius' call and taken his offer if Harry's magic hadn't fought them back. If the price I have to pay for Harry taking up this mantle is to watch him cavort with the Slytherin Slut then so be it."

Severus chuckled. "I haven't heard Lucius called that in years."

"I expect we are the only two who would still dare to do so." Albus smiled in a resigned sort of way and gave a tired groan as he tried to rub a kink out of the back of his neck. "I really don't know what to do anymore, Severus. This war isn't like the last one. There are no rules and there doesn't appear to be any clear objective. And now Lucius has made a mockery of the Light and I have the Order defending a Necromancer. Meanwhile, your mother and Voldemort are planning something. I can feel it my bones."

Severus snorted. "Mother. I still can't believe my mother has taken up with Voldemort. It's…nauseating."

"Imagine how your poor father feels. Aberforth told me he tried to Obliviate the memory." Albus gave a true smile then and started to relax a bit into his chair. "How is it going with you, my boy? I know we ask much of you."

Severus waved off the concern. "I am no longer spying. Not being tortured on a regular basis has made a world of difference. Hermione…is a blessing. I will admit I find her company enjoyable. And…I am finding that being a father is…a remarkably pleasant experience." Severus shook his head in disbelief. "I never would have thought I'd say that."

"You've come a long way, Severus. A very long way." Albus smiled and softly patted his friend's arm. "Deirdre has taken to you quite well. You have a family again."

Severus had to force the emotion from his voice. "I have my father with me for the first time in my life. I have a wife and a daughter. I have my godson. If you'd told me at 17 I'd ever have any of those things I would have thought you a fool."

"I still can't believe it." Sirius' Black's voice came from behind them and Albus tried to cover his surprise as Sirius stepped through the floo. He'd obviously just finished at the Ministry and had used the secret connection from Grimmauld Place to report back. "Snivelous has a _family_." Sirius sneered at him. "The only thing that shocks me more is that I've just lied to get Lucius Malfoy off Dark Arts charges."

Severus wasn't thinking clearly, his temper flaring the instant Sirius' voice hit his ears, his control tenuous after the excitement of the evening. "Why don't you let Harry thank you personally? I'm sure he'd like to convey his heartfelt thanks for you rescuing his lover."

"Severus!" Albus yelled but neither man heard him.

"What!" Sirius backed away from Snape in surprise. "What did you say?"

Severus smirked darkly. The chance to push Black's buttons was too much to ignore. "You heard me. The reason Albus sent you to defend Lucius was because your precious Potter heir is banging him. They are together now, Potter offering Lucius comfort over his wife's death." Severus sneered. "I imagine there will be more…_intense _comforting this evening."

Sirius was out the door before Albus could even raise his wand to stop him. "Severus Snape, what in Merlin's name have you done?" Albus asked in a harsh whisper. "I didn't save Lucius only to get him killed!"

Severus realized the instant the words had finished leaving his mouth that he'd made an error and that Harry, and Hermione, were likely to demand his head for this. But the sight of Sirius Black so irate was so pleasant…Severus bit back anther smirk. "Perhaps we should go to the dungeons and insure the mutt does not harm your weapon? Either of them?"

Albus glared at him but they never the less started to make their way to Severus' rooms as quickly as the old wizard could travel.

Using a few of the passageways only a Hogwarts faculty member could enter, they got there just ahead of Black. Lucius' head was resting on Harry's knee and the Boy-Who-Lived was calmly petting the long strands. Remus and Draco were in the corner where the werewolf was quietly comforting his lover, whispered words and gentle touches keeping Draco from completely collapsing. Hermione was kneeling by the hearth, trying to clean up the mess Lucius had made coming out the floo, and attempting to ignore the two couples in the room. Just as Albus started to warn the occupants of the room that they were about to have a visitor, Sirius burst into the room, the heavy door banging loudly against the stone wall.

"Harry James Potter!" The irate voice of Sirius Black echoed in the generally calm atmosphere of the dungeons and made everyone snap to attention. "What the hell do you think you are doing!"

Hermione dropped her dustpan with a metallic clang. Remus jumped back from Draco with a guilty look on his face. Albus closed his eyes with a grimace and Snape smirked even harder. But Harry barely flinched before he slowly resumed running his fingers through his lover's hair.

Harry scarcely looked up as he spoke. "Lucius is everything to me, Sirius. Please, try to see that." His voice was quiet and resigned as he said the words. "Let me have this, Sirius, it's the only thing I have that's my own." He spared a quick glance up to catch Sirius eyes and then turned back to Lucius.

Sirius sputtered. "The man is a Death Eater. He's tried to kill you! He set a basilisk loss in the school!. He's a homicidal maniac!"

Severus crossed his arms and glared at the unwanted intruder. "Careful Black. That homicidal maniac is my best friend. And since I categorize you in the same general category of mental stability you have no room to talk."

"I was what, 14 or 15? I was a kid. It was a stupid, dumb, and thoughtless prank all right? I admit it. But Malfoy has…he's done a lot." Sirius finished somewhat lamely arms out to his sides and an exasperated expression on his face.

Remus took a deep breath. "Padfoot, you have to understand something. Lucius and Harry have a lot of the same problems. What you see now is Harry helping Lucius. But I can tell you from personal experience that the man helps Harry just as much. I've come to respect Lucius as a friend. I can't expect you to do the same, but please leave them alone, at least for the moment. Your cousin is dead. Let her family grieve."

A small voice interrupted the werewolf. "She's dead. Oh god Harry, she's dead."

Harry's green eyes flickered sadly in the candle light. "It's alright, love. Narcissa has been gone for a long time. You and Draco both said so."

Lucius raised his head and caught Harry's hand in his tightly. "But…I thought that maybe someday…there had to be a way to fix her. Anything can be fixed if you just find the right…"

Harry used his free hand to brush Lucius' hair back from his face and smiled sadly. "Not everything, love. I'm so sorry." The blond started crying again.

Sirius snorted disgustingly. "Good Merlin. He's run to Harry because his WIFE died! My godson is playing the whore to a married man."

"SIRIUS BLACK!" Hermione yelled, standing up angrily and shaking the dust pan threateningly in the direction of the animagus. The room cringed as one except for the oblivious Lord Malfoy who was currently sobbing hysterically into Harry's shoulder. "You have gone too far. Lucius cares for Harry. You know as well as I do that even if Narcissa hadn't been alive when they met Lucius and Harry could never publicly announce their relationship or marry, not with the families they are from. Not to mention the Dark Lord. And if you had seen the ~_Lady_~ Malfoy lately you'd know there wasn't enough of the woman left to constitute a marriage. Besides the fact that it was an arranged marriage, not one either would have chosen. They were _best friends_ nearly since birth, practically siblings! Lucius has every right to mourn for her! Harry is not a whore and I don't want to EVER hear you say such a thing again. Now get out of my home." Hermione glared daggers at Black and pointed to the door.

"I will not leave that Death Eater in the same room with my godson."Sirius growled.

Hermione growled herself in answer, her eyes flashing golden. "That Death Eater is guest in my home, Black. You are not. Lucius may have his faults, but he is my friend. Get out."

"That's the point! Harry doesn't have to be fucking the man to talk to him. You seem to get along fine without buggering him. Why can't Harry?" Black seemed almost petulant by the end of his tirade.

"I highly doubt Harry is doing any buggering whatsoever. I believe the proper term for his role in the relationship would be buggeriee." Severus smirked.

"Why you…" Black lunged for Severus but Remus stopped him. Draco meanwhile had sat down on the floor next to the chair containing Harry and his father. He was running a soothing hand up and down the elder Malfoy's back trying to help calm the man. Sirius' tirade had only made the wizard even more despondent, clutching at Harry as if Sirius would rip the boy away any moment.

Sirius wrenched himself free of the werewolf's hold and made for the door. "Fine. Just fine. I'm done with the lot of you. You've all gone mad!"

"Sirius." Harry's voice stopped the man cold. "I know you can't like this. I don't ask you to."

"He's not even mentally stable." Sirius whined without turning around.

"Lucius is what he is, I love him _for_ that not in spite of it. I am here for him now because I know he will be there for me when I need him. You don't know how close I've come to having the same breakdown. I can't keep it at bay forever. Lucius will be there when it happens to help glue the pieces together."

"Harry…"

"Shut up and listen to me. I don't expect you to be in the room when we make love," Harry had to pitch his voice louder to cover the choking sounds from his godfather. "But I do expect you to hold your tongue in our presence. No matter what you say I intend to spend my life with Lucius, however long or short that may be. So you will either accept that or you will be the one to suffer. Don't ask me to give up a chance for some happiness, Sirius. With the war, this might be the only chance I get."

Sirius' eyes darkened and he pursed his lips tightly, clearly holding back a retort. He turned and slammed the chamber door on his way out causing a shelf of books to rattle and a few knick knacks to fall. He transformed into Padfoot several feet down the hallway, his nails clicking dangerously against stone as he started to run. Severus heard the screams of a couple younger Slytherins as they dove out of the way of the running grim.

"I'll go after him." Remus volunteered and headed for the door. "He needs some sense beaten into him."

Severus stopped him. "If anyone is going to be beating sense into Black it will be me. I've waited over a decade to do so." Severus made for the door.

"Will they be alright?" Harry asked worriedly as Snape slammed it behind him, knocking even more prickabrak off the shelf.

Remus grinned. "Severus has been dealing with an irate Sirius Black for years. They'll be fine. They might need some time in the infirmary, but they'll be all right in the end."

Harry nodded.

"I'm sorry Harry. I don't want to be trouble." The small voice of Lucius rose to Harry's ears.

"You are not trouble Lucius. Sirius will deal with this in his own time." Harry replied, smiling gently. "You've had a horrible day and he had no right to make this any worse for you. You've just lost your best friend."

"I am so tired." Lucius replied, laying his head back down on Harry's lap, still clutching at his robes. "The healers kept making me taking calming droughts and …I'm so tired."

Harry shifted slightly on the couch making more room. "Sleep love. We'll be here when you wake up."

Lucius' hand reached blindly in the direction of his son. "Tell Draco…she did love him. I swear she did. Even in the end…"

Draco sniffled, tears running down his cheeks. "I know father. I've always known."


End file.
